


Stitch and Mend

by papayaromantic



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canonical Child Abuse, Doesn't focus on romance, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Siblings, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Sibling Bonding, now with art!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-01-05 17:39:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 44,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18370880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papayaromantic/pseuds/papayaromantic
Summary: When the Hargreeves are 12, they meet a young girl named Eudora Patch. She's nice, has good stories, and actually wants them around.There's a mansion full of obviously abused kids at the end of her block. Super-powered or not, Patch knows that she cares about the siblings, and she won't let Reginald Hargreeves hurt them anymore.





	1. The Girl Scout

There’s a knock at the door.

Logically, Diego knows that he shouldn’t open it. It was one of Dad’s first rules of the house: Do Not Under Any Circumstances Open The Door. “Our house is a temple of knowledge and skill,” he always says, “and others must earn their way into it.” Pogo agreed, declaring that with their status as vigilantes, anyone could easily be an intruder after their safety or their secrets.

However, Dad and Pogo aren’t here today.

He speeds to the door before anyone else can hear it and end up shooing the person away, slipping on the hardwood in his haste. He clambers outside and slams the door shut behind him, hoping that Luther just assumes it’s Five having another fit.

A girl awaits him outside, dark brown hair in a plait over her shoulder, like the ones Klaus does on Vanya. Her vest is beige and her sash is green. Do people wear sashes often? He’s never seen one in person before, but he doesn’t meet many people, so he wouldn’t know. He leans his back on the door and takes a breath, coming down from his dash.

“Hi.” he shoves his hand out, like Dad taught them to do for interviews. “I-I’m Diego.”

She cocks her head to the side in confusion, but shifts her clipboard over to her other arm with the boxes and takes his hand in a firm grip before shaking it. “Um, hello. I’m… Patch.” Patch lets go and grabs her clipboards again. “I’m with the Girl Scouts.”

“Whuh-wha-what’s that?”

“A Girl Scout?” Her face pinches. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to acknowledge the stutter.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t know what a Girl Scout is?” she looks at him in vague amazement, before clearing her throat, “The Girl Scouts of America is an organization tasked with making sure young girls have survival skills. We also sell cookies, which is why I’m here today. We want to afford a trip to a campsite a few hours away.”

Diego smiles. Allison would probably like to try that. Klaus would want to wear the sash. “Tha-that’s really cuh-cuh-cuh-cool.”

“Do you want to buy some?” she pauses and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Cookies, I mean.”

He makes a face. “What kinds do y-yuh-you have?”

“All sorts, really.” She shoves a few of the boxes in his face. “But our troop leader says that we should push the Samoas. They’re pretty alright, I guess. It’s like, these little rounds of toasted coconut with chocolate drizzled all over.”

Diego frowns. “Ben is really allerg-gi-gi-gic to coconut. He would die.”

“Ben?”

“One of my bruh-others.”

“You have brothers?”

“Four. And two sisters.”

Patch whistles, low and slow. “I’m an only child. I can’t even imagine having a house that full.”

“It’s the wor-wor-worst.” Diego puffs out his cheeks. “Allison gets upse-et when Klaus steals her skirts, which means that Luther goes out and-and yells at him, which means Ben has to leave the libr-ar-ary to tell Luther to stop, and the library’s all mess-messed up, which means Five is pissy, and when Five is pissy, Vanya gets re-really sad, which means everyone is-is sad. And then I have to fight Luther.”

The girl is smiling oddly at him, which he thinks is very inappropriate. He was just airing out real grievances, and she finds them cute. Given that _she_ came up to _his_ house without permission, this is unfair. “Why do you have to fight Luther?”

“‘Cause he sucks.”

“I think everyone thinks that about their siblings.”

Diego crosses his arms. “But nobody’s as right as-as me.”

Patch seizes, mouth open in an ugly cackle. He likes the way it looks. It’s real, and he doesn’t get a lot of that. Diego doubts anything she does could be anything other than magnitising, anyway. “I’m glad you think so.”

He almost frowns, because it sounds like she’s dismissing him, but she seems earnest. She sounds… supportive of him. Still a bit neutral towards the situation, but supportive. It’s warm. “You said you-you were selling cookies?”

Her posture lifts and she fingers the boxes again. “Yeah. You interested?”

“I’m gonna have to ask Fi-Fi-Five for money.”

“I can wait.”

Diego flashes a smile at her and goes back into the house as quickly as possible. He’s immediately met with the eager (and exasperated, in Ben’s case) faces of Ben and Klaus.

“Who was that, brutha?” Klaus wraps an arm around the back of his neck. Diego pushes him off.

“A Girl Scout.”

“A what?” Ben is a recipient of Klaus’s hug instead.

“I don-don-don’t know, they sell cookie-ies in the woods. And I want some. Bye.” Just as he’s about to run up the stairs, he turns back around to find Ben’s hand on the knob. “And don’t go out there! You’re all so we-weird. She doesn’t deserve you.”

Klaus blows a raspberry at him as he follows the hall to Five’s room. He doesn’t bother to knock because Five probably already knows he’s there. This is because Five is a prick.

Said prick is sitting on his bed, scrawling rapidly in another notebook. It’s a different one than the one he had this morning at breakfast, Diego notes. Progress, he hopes, since a setback would mean that Five would absolutely not give him cookie money.

“I need money.” Diego starts with, because it’s true.

“I don’t want to give you money.” Five flips a page. “Why should I?”

“Buh-because it’s for a good cau-ca-ca-cause. And I know that you stuh-stole it from Dad, so he loses money if I use it.”

The notebook shuts as his brother quirks a brow. “What good cause could this be, perchance?”

“Cookies.”

Five narrows his eyes. “Mom can make you cookies whenever you want.”

“These are spec-ci-cial. And I want them. So I want the money.” Diego reaches his hands out. “Gimme.”

The boy makes a disgusted face and sighs before reaching under his bed for a baggie. Inside lies six hundred-dollar bills. He blinks forward to hand Diego one before blinking back and opening his notebook again. “You are telling me about this later, but I’m busy now. Leave, peasant.”

Diego makes finger guns and clicks his tongue. The door clicks shut by the time he’s slid down the bannister to reach the entrance again. He hears muffled talking from outside and groans. He rips open the door, a scowl on his face.

“Ben! Klaus! I told you to go aw-away!”

Patch looks back at him from her place sitting on the steps. Ben is seated beside her, while Klaus is posing on the sidewalk with the sash. _Called it_.

“Your brothers were just introducing themselves.” She looks bemused. “I believe I’ve met Your Highness Ghostboy and his scribe, Sir Hentai?”

Ben flushes red and sputters. “I told you! My name is Ben! I’m Ben!” He glares at Klaus. “This is your fault.”

“Don’t blame the Queen for her country!” Klaus flips the sash.

Diego drags his nails down his face. “I hate a-all of you.”

Patch purses her lips to hide a smile. “Aw, I thought we were almost friends! And here I was, about to offer some delicious Girl Scout brand cookies for you boys, and yet you deny me.”

“No!” Diego pulls out the bill and shoves it at her. “I got it! Cookies, puh-please!”

The girl stalls as she grabs the note, joke dying on her lips. She looks between him and the bill. “Diego. This is $100.”

“I hope it’s en-enough?”

She laughs, breathless. “If you want 25 boxes, sure! That’s a ton of cookies.”

“We have a ton of siblings.” Ben nabs one of the boxes and inspects the picture. It’s some sort of peanut butter thing. “Can we get this one? I’ve been eyeing it and it looks least likely to have Dad kill us for hiding it in the house.”

“25 boxes of Doceedos for Sir Hentai!” Klaus points at the brother in question with both hands, mouth curled up into a shit-eating grin.

Patch attempts to correct him with a soft, “Do-si-dos,” but is quickly interrupted by an angered Ben yelling obscenities at their most vibrant of brothers.

Diego sits down beside Patch and ignores his brothers fighting. “Just get, like, one of ever-rything. Except for Samoas, probably. Any boxes leftover just ass-ass-ass-assign at random.” He snatches the box back from Ben’s lap, who has dropped it in order to gesture more fervently. “It doesn’t really matter. They’ll be guh-guh-gone in seconds.”

He helps Patch to her feet, once he realizes that she’s attempting to stand up. She hands her clipboard to him to sign.

“Thanks!” She takes it back when he’s done. “They should be ready in about four weeks. I can deliver on like, the last Thursday of next month?”

Ben and Klaus stop arguing. All three boys’ faces go blank and dark.

“No.” Ben says. “No, not on Thursdays. We have… a family thing then.” He looks at her and tries to smile warmly. It falls a little flat. “How about the 27th? Dad is out again, which means we only really have to skirt around Pogo.”

Patch’s expression pulls itself into concern, dragging down her face and putting stress in her features. She opens her mouth to say something, and then closes it again. “I…” She bites her lip. “I can deliver then, yeah.” The girl gathers her boxes and her clipboard, brushing off her skirt. “Look forward to that, I suppose!”

Diego smiles earnestly, which causes Patch to do the same in return. “See you thuh-then, Patch.”

“Don’t forget us!” Klaus plops her sash on top of the pile in her arms.

“Please forget everything that happened here today.” Ben groans, head on his hands.

Patch snorts and starts off down the stairs away from the mansion. Before she reaches the end, however, she turns back around. “Just…” she scuffs a foot on the pavement, “just know that my mom is a cop. She’s really good. I’m going to be a cop like her too, someday. And… and if you guys are in trouble, she can help. You just have to tell me and she’ll fix everything.”

Diego winces as Klaus lets out a choked breath and Ben shoots a hopeful look towards him. They’re not in trouble, are they? The bad guys are easy to manage, and Diego almost never gets shot. Plus, Dad makes sure that Mom is always there for training sessions so that if they’re on the brink of death, they won’t make it all the way. It’s the kindest their father gets, really.

“We’re nuh-not in trouble, but thanks a-anyway.” Klaus clenches his fists and slinks back inside, Ben following dejectedly behind him. He bumps Diego’s shoulder on his way in. “Be safe on your way ba-a-ack, okay?”

Patch stares, upset, at the closed door, nodding slowly before turning back to face him. “I will, Diego.” She gives him a smile, slightly worn out at the edges. “I’ll see you again soon.”

Diego salutes her as she walks down the block and leaves his sight. He sits on the steps for probably another 30 minutes after her departure, just staring at the clouds. He doesn’t go outside much other than to train. It’s nice.

Ben and Klaus don’t talk to him for the rest of the night, and he doesn’t know why.


	2. Universe Says Hello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not easy work, smuggling 25 boxes of cookies into the house when you have 6 nosy siblings.

Ben and Klaus agree to keep Five off of Diego’s back under the promise that they’ll be allowed to see Patch when she comes again.

Diego doesn’t really know why he wants to keep her a secret. Five wouldn’t tell Dad or Luther, he knows, but there’s something special about having a thing just for him.  _ Patch is nice _ , he thinks,  _ and normal _ . She’s also his first friend, so it’s important to him that he does it right. How do you even be friends with somebody? He asked Mom the other day, but Dad hadn’t programmed her with the answer.

Klaus wiggles his way next to him on the couch as Ben leans his elbows on the backrest. “It’s Patch day!” He drapes his arms over Diego’s chest. “It’s been  _ so long _ , Diego. I’m not a patient man.”

Diego shoves him away. “You don’t suh-say.”

“I’ve been making him pester me so he doesn’t bother you. Be grateful.” Ben sighs. “The cookies had better be worth the earache.”

“Don’t even lie, Benny Boy! You’re just waiting to see Patch, too.”

It’s kind of embarrassing, but Patch had become more like an urban legend in their house. Klaus thinks Patch is another nice robot like Mom, while Ben is convinced she’s a guardian angel, for some reason. Diego disagrees. Patch is probably just a normal girl, doing normal things for her Girl Scout cult. He hopes that the Girl Scouts aren’t bent on world domination like the rest of the cults the Umbrella Academy has had to deal with. It would feel really bad to have to stab her other friends. Ben read a book about friendship once, the only one in the house, and he says that you’re supposed to try and be friends with their friends. Stabbing doesn’t do that.

“Whuh-what if she doesn’t come?” Number Two makes a face. “You guys probably weirded her ou-oh-out.”

“You paid her $100 to come back. I’m pretty sure with her cop mom, she wouldn’t just leave us.” Ben stands up and stretches, cracking his back. The weight of the tentacles had really done him in last training session. “We should go wait by the door!”

Klaus jumps up. “Surprise attack!”

“No, stupid. She’ll druh-dro-drop the cookies.” Diego gets up and slips on his shoes beside the welcome mat. “Where’s Pogo?”

“Helping Mom redo Luther’s stitches from training.” Ben sticks his face to the window. It fogs up when he speaks. “He pulled them trying to pass a bowl across the table at breakfast. They should be occupied for a bit.”

“It’s not my fault!” Klaus pleads. “I didn’t know he was gonna up and cleave himself in twain to hand me the blueberries.”

“Nobody’s blaming you, Klaus.” He rolls his eyes. “Diego was the one who stabbed him, anyway.”

“Dad told me tuh-to, and I don’t regret it.” He feels bad that Luther’s still in pain, but he doesn’t feel bad for the stabbing. It’s his power; he’s supposed to use it.

Ben turns around to be disappointed in his general direction, but quickly flips back around in a double-take. He cups his hands around his eyes. “Guys, I think I see something coming this way!”

Klaus whoops, ignoring Diego’s glare. “Patch!”

They all wait for her to approach and knock at the door. You’re not meant to greet people before you’re greeted first, of course, at least not in their house. It’s hell on earth waiting for her to slog her wagon up the sidewalk, but Ben and Klaus are practically vibrating in excitement the entire time. Diego just can’t stop smiling.

Before Patch can knock a second time, Ben has flung open the door and Klaus has attached himself to her waist. He’s always been very touchy-feely.

Ben pries him off of her and holds his struggling limbs behind the threshold of the entrance. “Hi, Patch! You made it!”

She laughs. “Heyo, Ben! And it’s good to see you too, Klaus.”

“Get off of me, you scoundrel!” Klaus tries to stomp on Ben’s foot. Diego closes the door so no one will hear them.

“They’re exhaust-tuh-ting today.” Diego purses his lips before changing them into a beam for Patch.

“I’m sure some cookies’ll settle them.” The girl points towards her wagon. Inside lies a pile of boxes. “I got you at least one of everything, except for the Samoas, just like you asked.”

Ben steals a box like the greedy little gremlin he is. The cardboard is torn open without regard and he sticks a Do-si-do in his mouth before lending one to Klaus, who holds it in both hands. Diego rolls his eyes and takes another one from the box for himself.

“Wow! These taste nothing like Mom’s.” Ben says, crumbs falling all over his freshly-ironed blazer.

“Because they’re Girl Scout cookies.” Patch clasps her hands in front of herself and bounces on the balls of her feet. “They’re made in a factory.”

“Nah, Mom only makes cookies with chocolate chips in ‘em. We didn’t even know there were other kinds!” Klaus puts the cookie in his pocket after taking a bite and reaches into the packet to grab another handful of confections for his shorts. “This is amazing!”

The girl frowns. “That’s like saying there’s only one type of cake.”

“We know  _ thuh-thuh-that _ one.” Diego rolls his eyes and stuffs three of the Do-si-dos in his mouth at a time before Ben hands him a box labeled  _ Thin Mints _ . He quirks a brow. “There’s confetti cake for o-our birthday, and there’s chocola-la-la-la-chocola-la—ugh!  _ FUDGE _ for Dad’s.”

“There’s also strawberry cake, carrot cake, red velvet cake, vanilla cake, and every other flavor you can think of.”

“Wha’?” Ben speaks through a mouthful of Trefoils. He swallows. “Woah! That’s, like, so many.”

Patch looks at him, eyes sad. “I guess.”

Diego sits down on the stairs and brushes his hands off on his shorts. “Thanks, Patch.”

She nods distractedly and watches Klaus continue to hide away cookies. She kneels down next to him where he sits cross-legged next to the wagon, unpackaging cookies and shoving them in his pockets. “Klaus, you bought the boxes. You own the cookies. You don’t have to stash them, because you can have them whenever you want.”

Klaus pauses, hand shoved in a box of Tagalongs. “But I…” He pulls his hand out and looks at the treat there. “But—,” Klaus turns to look at Patch. “Oh my gosh, you’re right! I own these!”

“You own those!” she agrees.

“Ben! Ben, I own these!” Klaus moves to sit on his knees as Ben echos an excited “You own those!” Klaus starts pouring the cookies from his pants into the wagon with the rest of the boxes.

“You don’t own the wagon, though. I’ll need that back.”

The boy shrugs. “We can probably stuff ‘em in Vanya’s closet.”

Ben points at his brother, nodding. “He never checks in there.”

“Wuh-won’t Vanya steal them?”

Diego receives two blank stares for his suggestion. “She’s Vanya. If she bucks up and takes one, she deserves it.”

“You can wait here, Patch! We’ll be back in a little minnie.”

Patch grabs Klaus’s hand before he can reach the doorknob. She ignores his confused look in order to steel herself and clear her throat. “I am… not sure that I feel comfortable with you going in there alone. If you’d let me, I’d be really good backup.”

As if expecting Diego’s noncompliance, Ben and Klaus drag him to the side. Patch can hear hissed whispering before Diego hangs his head and Ben returns. “Klaus thinks you should meet Vanya, so Diego says you can come. There’s a few things, though.” The boy counts off on his fingers. “First rule: If you see a blond kid with the thickest jawline you’ve ever seen—,”

“—Like a Lego man, that one,”

“Yes, thank you, Klaus.” He rolls his eyes. “If you see a Lego man, that’s our brother, Luther. If you see him, a lady with pin-up curls, or a monkey, then you are a girl who got lost and we’re trying to find a map.” He puts up another finger. “Second rule: Try not to see them. Third: Be quiet and don’t look around. Is that okay?”

Patch nods eagerly, trying her best to put the weird stuff (did he say a  _ monkey?) _ out of her mind. The brothers smile at her and Klaus grabs her hand back. Diego takes command of the wagon.

Once the door opens, the kids go quiet. Patch winces as Ben’s shoes squeak on the floor, but there isn’t much to be done about that.

The mansion is  _ big. _ It’s so much bigger than she could have imagined, really. There’s tile, hardwood, lights, lamps, paintings, columns, chez lounges, and every other stereotypical representation of wealth her mom had promised her when they’d been poor and living in motels. They evidently never got any of it, because Patch can hardly breathe past the oppressive sense that she doesn’t belong. She knows she’s not supposed to look, but she feels her eyes drifting.

Klaus squeezes her fingers as they go up the stairs and she peers back down at her shoes.

She can hear Diego grunting from the weight of the cookie-filled wagon, but there’s nothing to do about it. Ben has gone ahead to warn Vanya and Klaus is helping her find her way. She hopes it’s not too heavy.

All of the doors on the upper floor are shut except for the one at the very end. Ben’s voice carries out of it and she almost sighs in relief.

This is, of course, before she hears a shrill “Who is that?” from behind her.

The painted nails of Klaus’s hand dig into her cheek as he physically holds back her scream. She takes a breath and taps him, letting him know that she’s good now. Klaus smiles and turns around to face the pretty girl behind them.

“Hey, Ally-Pally!” He steps up to her so that she gets distracted enough to let Diego by with the cookies. “What’s cookin’?”

“There’s a stranger in our house, Klaus.” Ally glares at her warily.

“Who? I only see you, me, and Patch.” He claps her on the back and she stumbles. Patch straightens up and holds out a hand for Ally to shake. “She’s a friend.”

“We have friends now?” Ally looks at her hand in distaste.

“I hope so.” Patch takes her hand back and grabs the hem of her vest instead. “Your brothers need to offer some form of friendship for me to want to put up with them.”

Ally snorts and relaxes her shoulders. “They’re awful.” She smiles, almost blinding with charisma. It looks familiar, somehow. “I’m Allison.”

“Good to meet you, Allison!”

Klaus whines and stomps his feet, impatient. “Stop being cute; we have a date with Vanya to make!”

Patch rolls her eyes in unison with Allison. “Of course. Lead the way, Ghostboy.”

“Ugh, you actually call him that? He’s been begging us to for  _ ages, _ like he doesn’t know he’s already The Seance.”

“It’s what he introduced himself to me as.” Patch pauses in her steps. That name, too, is most certainly something she’s heard before. “‘The Seance?’”

Allison drags her by her vest into Vanya’s room. It’s a stark contrast from the halls of the mansion; small and dinky with brick exposed. The only homey things in the room are the bed in the left corner and the violin in the other. Patch frowns.  _ Are all the kids’ rooms like this? _

A mousy girl sits on the bed, legs tangled and hands intertwined on her lap. Diego splays himself out beside her.

“Puh-Patch, this is Vanya! She’s our other sistuh-tuh-sister.”

Patch tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and bows slightly in lieu of a handshake. “Hi, Vanya! Your brothers told me a bit about you.”

The girl’s eyes widen and she leans forward slightly. “They did?” she squeaks.

“Mhm! They wanted me to meet you.”

Allison looks slightly put out, but calms down once Ben whispers something in her ear. “Did you have any idea that the boys made a friend? ‘Cause they certainly didn’t care to tell  _ me.” _

Vanya shakes her head vigorously. “Of course not! Nobody tells me anything.”

“I haven’t really known them for long.” Patch rubs the back of her neck awkwardly.

Diego pushes the wagon with his foot towards the standing sister. “These are cuh-cuh-cook-cookies. It’s why Patch came over; ‘cause we buh-bought ‘em.”

Allison inspects one of the cookies Klaus had thrown in unpackaged carefully. She brings it up to her eye and into the light. “These aren’t cookies, Diego, are you stupid?”

Klaus snatches the cookie back and stuffs it into his pocket with a frown. “There’s a lot of different types of cookies than the ones Mom makes! Patch says there’s like a million.”

“Maybe not a million, but a lot.” The Girl Scout hands Allison a box of Thin Mints. “These are our most popular flavor, so you might like to try them. They’re minty.”

“Like toothpaste?” Allison frowns but pops a Thin Mint in her mouth once she manages to rip open the packaging. “Oh wow, these are good. Not like toothpaste at all! It’s like, uhm… like the feeling of that spray-on bandage stuff Mom uses, but good.” She hands three to Vanya, who looks like she’s about to cry in thanks. It makes Patch sad. Does nobody else see this? “This is crazy.”

“I know, right?” Klaus runs a hand through his hair. “The world is incredible! There’s more than one type of cookie and there’s a person in our house! Dad can suck eggs; I  _ do _ want to go outside into that ‘dangerous green earth.’”

Patch feels like screaming. “You’re not allowed outside?”

Ben frowns. “Only for missions. Are  _ you _ allowed outside?”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“On a miss-shuh-shih-ssion for the Girl Scuh-Scouts!”

“This isn’t a mission! My troop is going together to deliver all the orders, but I wanted to see you guys on my own.” She would blush, but she’s too confused and angry. She has no idea what’s going on, but she knows it’s wrong. The situation with these kids is wrong and she doesn’t care why it is the way it is; they need  _ help. _ “Normal kids don’t have missions.”

“Do you...” Ben stands on his toes in order to put both hands on her shoulders, “do you seriously not know who we are?”

“Of course not!” Every expression in the room seems to soften. She hears a choked “oh.” come somewhere from her left.

“Patch,” Diego sighs and pulls a knife out from his pocket and throws it in a quick motion. Her heart stops as it heads for Allison’s face. Suddenly, it curves down and hits right in the middle of the Thin Mint she’s holding. Diego looks tired when she glances back at him. “Wuh-we’re the Umbrella Academy.”


	3. Good to Meet You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's these little things about Patch that make it clear she's here to stay.

“The Umbrella Academy.” Patch repeats, mind stalling. “You?”

“We.” Ben lets go of her.

She tugs on the end of her ponytail. It’s… it’s certainly a lot to suddenly find that she’s officially friends and cookie dealer to the Umbrella Academy, but when she thinks about it, it doesn’t really change a lot about the situation. “Okay.” is what she decides to say, because it really sums up her thoughts on the matter.

“Okay?” Diego makes a perplexed face. “This situation isn’t suh-s-something you just _‘okay.’”_

“Well I’m ‘okay’ing it anyways.”

Allison stands stock still. “We’re famous, you know. I don’t get why you would just be here of your own volition, nevertheless not care at all about us.”

“I care about you! I just have better things to do than hang out with superheroes. I’d rather spend time with my friends, which, in case you didn’t notice, you are.” Patch frowns. “I don’t need somebody to stab creeps or talk to my dead family members for me. I need people who want to share cookies and be introduced to board games. If you want an Academy fanatic, then I’m really sorry I can’t be that for you.”

It stays quiet for a _long_ time. She knows the siblings are probably having some form of eye-contact conversation above her head, but she doesn’t mind. Patch doesn’t have any other friends, so she’s willing to wait for them to accept it. She moves to sit on the floor and rearrange the cookie boxes so that they’re less crushed. She would move them to the closet, but that might be out of line.

“She’s lying.” A voice calls from the hallway. She turns to find another boy in the Academy’s uniform giving her a stare full of the most fury she’s ever seen. “I’ve done a lot of research on psychology, and I know that nobody would come here without their own reasons.”

“Five, that’s so rude!” Ben pouts. “Patch is the nicest person around.”

“Any niceties can be an act, and you know it.” Five steps closer to her. “I’m not letting you all get taken advantage of.”

Allison looks upset. “We can make that decision for ourselves.” She pushes to be in front of Five. “Do you trust me?” she asks Patch.

“Kind of sudden, but sure.”

“Then you’ll have to trust that…” She takes a breath and stares at the carpet. “That I heard a rumor that for the next hour, you could only tell the truth.”

Patch’s vision goes white for a moment and her hearing cuts out as her brain processes the order. When she comes back to complete consciousness a second later, Allison is arguing with the rest of her siblings. The Girl Scout clears her throat and the fighting stops. “Did you use your power on me?”

Allison winces. “Are you mad?”

“A little.” She shrugs. “But it’s important to me that you all know I’m not lying, so I don’t mind.”

Diego drags a hand down his face. “You can’t be suh-so noncha-shaluh-nonchalant about it! You’re guh-guh-gonna get killed with thuh-that attitude!”

Patch raises an eyebrow. “But I know Allison.”

“Fuh-for five minutes!”

“But I know that _you_ know Allison.”

“That’s—!”

“What do you want from us?” Five interrupts, frustrated. “You can’t just want to help us.”

Patch fidgets. She really doesn’t want to answer this question. It was so much more fun to argue with Diego.

“Patch, it’s okay. We won’t be upset.” Vanya smiles weakly from the corner.

The Girl Scout straightens her shoulders and sighs. There’s probably no way around this conversation. “We moved here a few weeks ago. We went broke when Mom had just started at the Police Academy, so as soon as we earned enough money to actually live in an apartment, we left. And it’s good, but really lonely. It’s summer, so I can’t go to school, and the girls in my new troop have their own cliques. I’m just so tired of going home to read the same five books.” She looks up. “I’m sorry that I—,”

She’s interrupted as she gets an armful of both Klaus and Vanya.

“My darling! Pure of heart!” Klaus faux-weeps. “I knew you were cool.”

“I-I knew too!”

Patch snorts and hugs them back. “I’m glad my answer was good with you. It would suck to have to go home now.”

“Five’s not allowed to send you home.” Ben glares at the boy.

He sighs and puts his hands up. “I’m not!” He sits on the floor. “Sorry for being concerned that us high-ranking vigilantes might be under infiltration by spies or something. I’m getting bored of seeing Allison’s betrayed look.”

“I’m glad you’re such an overprotective brother. If someone didn’t start asking questions, I would have thought you were raised by idiots instead of assholes.” She covers her mouth frantically. “Oh jeez; I didn’t mean to say that.”

Klaus barks a laugh into her sash. “Dad’s an idiot _and_ an asshole. It’s such difficult work to be both at the same time, but he makes it look easy.”

“He could write a book on it!” Ben counters.

“Yuh-yeah. ‘The Complete Ih-Idiot’s Guide to Hating The Chuh-Children You Bought.’”

Patch freezes for a moment. “He _bought_ you?” she hisses, seeing red.

“I was the most expensive.” boasts Five.

“You shouldn’t be proud of that! Jesus Christ!” she pulls the two siblings in her lap a bit closer, as if that would do anything to help. “Kids don’t get bought! That’s illegal! My mom arrests those kinds of people!”

“Is she going to arrest Dad?” asks Vanya.

_“Hooh boy,_ for your father’s sake, I hope she does.” Patch growls. “I know this isn’t my place, but if I can’t lie, there’s absolutely no way for us to continue this conversation without me saying that I absolutely despise your dad.”

“Then say it.” goads Allison.

Patch rolls her eyes with a smile. “I despise your dad.”

“Aw, me too! We have so much in common!” The girl grins brightly, a touch of mischief in her eyes. “We’re going to be great friends.”

The girl snorts and shifts in her spot between Klaus and Vanya to accommodate more legroom. She’s fairly tall, and the other siblings are… not, so she wouldn’t expect them to really prepare for her predicament. The rest of the kids move imperceptibly closer too, and she wonders how much gentle physical contact they get on a daily basis. “I can—,” her voice catches. She frowns. “I… I can…”

“Puh-Patch?”

“I can’t say it.” She purses her lips and tries to sound it out slowly. “I… can… suh… ee… ugh!”

“You’re trying to lie.” provides Five, sounding less accusatory and more helpful. It means a lot to her, so she gives him a grateful look. He glances away.

“I’m just trying to say an idiom! I cuh—I can see… I _can_ see…”

“You sound like Diego.” snorts Klaus, and Ben kicks him in the shin. Klaus winces and apologizes to both brothers.

“Say something else, maybe?”

“Something you will learn very quickly is that I am extremely determined and would rather eat a spider than give up.” Patch massages her jaw. “I! Can! See! Thuh-the-th-the—,” her throat closes. Vanya puts a hand over her mouth in order to laugh. “The red strings of fate au—ugh-guh.”

Ben snorts. “We get the—,”

There’s a slam of a far away door that breaks up the conversation. Every child in the room winces. “Number Two!” shouts a masculine voice. “Get down here this instant!”

“Fuck, he’s back early.” hisses Five.

All of a sudden, Patch is shut and locked into the small closet. Her arms are stuffed full of cookie boxes and her legs begin to cramp immediately. She hears the sound of a mass of feet pattering out of the room, but one set moves closer.

“It’s okay, I won’t let him near you.” Vanya whispers at the closet door. “I know it’s scary, but the others know what to do.”

“So do you.” says Patch, because she believes it. “Be safe, alright? Me being here doesn’t change anything.”

“Right.” she can hear the shaking in Vanya’s voice, can see the wobbling of the door as the girl presses her forehead against it and shakes. “Right.”

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=33k540j)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not exactly proud of this chapter, but i wrote it during school, so what can you expect! plus, i worked kinda hard on the art so i wanted to get it out as fast as possible :P i'll take longer on the next chapter, promise!  
> please, if you have any ideas for the au or just want to talk umbrella academy (i have so many headcanons) you can reach me on tumblr at papayaromantic! also, let me know if the formatting messes up at all  
> (also, sorry for the lack of five and luther in the pic! we'll get there)


	4. Stowaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patch meets someone new.

Patch hears the creak of the bed as Vanya sits upon the covers. There’s also distant talking, but she can’t make any of it out through the layers of doors the sound would have to travel through. She knows the siblings are strong, but it still worries her.

The bedposts shifts as Vanya moves uncomfortably. Patch blindly finds a small shelf (maybe a chest of some sort?) beside her, so she sets the cookies down on it to give her arms a rest. Vanya’s breath hitches at the noises, so the Girl Scout hums a very short tune.

She doesn’t know how long it takes, but eventually the door opens again and she hears a strange British voice come from it. “Master Vanya, Sir requests your presence in order to time Master Diego’s training exercise. If you would please come along to his training room, we can begin as soon as possible.”

Vanya’s shoes hit the floor. “Pogo, _please,_ I don’t want to.” Her voice breaks and Patch feels like ripping open the closet doors.

Pogo’s demeanor dims a bit in sadness. “Yes, I know, Master Vanya. However, when Sir requests someone…”

“How mad do you think he’d be if I just didn’t come?”

A sigh. “Very, I’m afraid.”

Clothing shifts and the hardwood rattles with footsteps. “I… I’ll go. But, but I was just in the middle of tuning up my violin. You can go ahead, but I need to finish that. I’ll run so Dad doesn’t know you left me.”

“If you say so, Master Vanya.” The door shuts again.

Vanya rips open the closet. Her eyes are wild. “Patch,” she keens. “You need to go. I’m so sorry, but you have to go right now.”

“I can go, it’s okay. I’ll just come back some other time, alright?” Vanya calms a bit at that.

“Just get out while Dad is… preoccupied. Don’t come near the main steps.” The small girl grabs Patch’s hands. “You have to _promise me_ that you won’t come near the main steps.”

She intertwines their pinkies, much to Vanya’s confusion. “It’s a pinkie promise, bud. It means that I promise more than anything. If I break the promise, you can cut my pinkie off; or at least, that’s what Mom’s always told me.”

“I don’t want to do that!”

“Then I won’t break the promise.” Patch laughs softly and fixes one of Vanya’s twin braids. The girl leans into it. “Go do good work, okay? And make sure everyone stays safe. I’ll be back soon, you can tell them that.”

Vanya nods, bites her lip, looks like she’s about to say something, and then nods again. She rushes to the door and runs out, leaving it open a crack behind her.

After she can no longer hear the pattering footfalls of the other preteen, Patch considers it safe enough to risk a look outside. The hallway is clear, as far as she can tell, but her problems don’t exactly end there. She imagines that the stairwell she came through was the main stairwell, which she is absolutely never going down, even if it means she has to Rapunzel herself out of the window.

Given that Vanya had called it the “main” stairs and not “the” stairs, there must be another set somewhere. She hates exploring this house, simply because she knows it isn’t full of good things, but for the sake of self-preservation and protecting the safety of her new friends, she guesses she has to.

With every step she winces. Her shoes aren’t loud at all, but it’s loud enough for her to notice. The sound rockets off of the walls and into empty door frames like a warning bell.

The hallways twist into different rooms that she can’t avoid going into if she wants to continue looking. This all goes to say that by minute three of searching, she’s completely and hopelessly lost in the mansion. She tugs on her ponytail in frustration. She needs to _get out,_ Vanya told her so. She doesn’t think she’s ready to know what’s happening by the main stairwell.

Just as she creaks open yet another door, a shadow looms over her from behind. Terrified, she turns around and crosses her arms over her chest. Instead of the monstrous father she’s expecting, she sees a clean-cut lady with a friendly stance.

“Who are you?” asks the woman. Gorgeous pin-up curls, flattering dress, and polite demeanor: it must be their mother. What did Ben say? They were supposed to be helping her get home, weren’t they?

“On my wa-augh—way huh-hoh…” Shit, Allison’s rumor. Her throat feels sticky with the lie.

“Yes, dear?” The woman leans down in front of her and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Just look at the word in your head. Speak slowly, now.” She smiles.

She hopes the woman asks a lot of questions, because there is absolutely not much Patch can say on her own without giving herself away. “I got lost.” she says, because she technically _is_ lost in the house.

“That’s no good,” she tuts, “I imagine you need a way home?”

“If you could, please.” Patch tugs at her vest. “I just found your house,” _I was looking for it,_ “and so I knocked on the door.” _Ben answered me,_ “It was unlocked,” _because Diego opened it,_ “so I just came in, hoping I could find help.” _to not be lonely._ “I’m really glad you’re here.” _You might be the only person in this house that is kind enough to not hurt those kids. I’m happy they have you._

“I’m sorry, darling. That must be very scary.” The mom stands up and brushes off her perfectly pristine skirt, then places a gentle guiding hand on Patch’s back. “Let’s go get you a map, Ms…?”

Patch winces. If any of the kids _ever_ mess up and mention her name, even as a pun, their mother is going to notice. They’ll get in trouble, and she can’t deal with that. Steeling herself, she blocks out the pain as she says “Eudora.”

“My, what a pretty name!”

“My dad gave it to me.” she slows in her walk. “He’s dead now, so it’s very special.” Patch looks up at the woman, whose plastic smile seems to be slipping. “Can you not tell anyone, please? I just want it to be between me and him.”

Once her expression goes blank, the mom changes into a small, warm smile, nothing like the one that had been present before. It reminds Patch of her own mother’s grin; a little worn around the edges but bright in the middle, like it’s fighting to be there and winning all the while. “Of course, dear. My lips are sealed.” she pantomimes throwing a key away.

Patch laughs. “Thank you, miss.”

“You’re more than welcome to call me Grace.” Grace opens the door to the study. “I’ll go fetch us a map of the area. Sit down wherever you like!” She bustles off.

There’s a small couch in the corner, so she rests on it and flattens out her skirt. Grace looks proper, so she’ll do her best to comply. On the coffee table in front of the chair resides a hardcover copy of “Huckleberry Finn” and she smiles, because it sounds a lot like something Ben would be interested in. It probably _was_ his, in fact.

Grace carefully moves the book over to a shelf in what is probably the correct spot, and then lays out a map. It has holes all over it, like someone’s been putting tacks in the paper.

“Do you know about how long you walked to get here, sweetie?” The hand has returned to her back.

“Around 20 minutes, I think.” It takes a moment, but Patch points to a line on the map. “That’s the name of my street, right there!”

“Oh, I’m so proud of you for finding it!” Her heart fills up a little bit more. God, is she glad that the siblings have Grace. “I would have my children walk you home, but they’re a tad busy right now.”

She can’t help asking. “With what?”

“I’m afraid it’s just schoolwork, darling. Their father makes sure that they’re well-rounded children, both in education and athletics.”

“Do you not help?” Grace would probably make whatever training Diego is doing much easier.

“Sir takes care of the academic needs of the children on his own, as per his request.”

“But they’re _your_ children, too!”

“Their father created me, so it’s only fair for me to pay attention to his orders.”

“He’s your _dad?!”_

“Heavens, no!” Grace laughs and fixes a wrinkle in Patch’s sash. “It’s a complicated situation. How about I give you directions and you head home safe and sound to your own guardian, okay?”

Patch decides to give up her line of questioning, because she’s never going to understand it. She’ll just ask Diego later. “That sounds good with me, Grace.”

Grace gives the warm smile again and begins pointing at the map, drawing perfectly straight lines on it with her painted fingernail. They’re long and fairly complicated, as if pulled straight from one of those new GPS things, but Patch doesn’t mind. She actually does know the way home, anyway.

“Thank you.” Patch says when Grace has stood her back up and put the map back in its place.

“No need for that! I’m here to help.”

Patch grabs the hem of her vest once again. It’s a comforting motion. “No, I really need you to know that I’m thankful.” _For what kindness you showed me. For not messing up these kids more. For caring._ “So, thank you, whether it’s your job or not.”

Grace’s face stalls and her mouth twitches, as if it doesn’t know what to do. Her hands clench in and flay out, clench and flay, clench and flay. “You’re welcome.” is what the woman decides on, voice sounding strange. Patch decides it’s another thing she’ll ask Diego about. Her expression rearranges itself back to its previous pleasantness. “I can walk you to the door, dear.”

Patch nods, because otherwise she would definitely get lost again. Grace holds her hand as they snake back through the halls.

Her heart pounds as they descend the same very stairs Vanya had told her not to go down. She wishes with everything she has that she can just keep from going, but she has no explainable reason to ask Grace to not make her go through the door she had insinuated she had come from in the first place.

She hears muffled weeping from a ways away. Patch quickly realizes why Vanya hadn’t wanted her to come down the main steps.

“4 milliliters of blood.” sniffs Vanya from that far off room.

“Number Three, you next.” their father insists.

Patch is helped out of the door by Grace. She thinks she thanks her again, but she doesn’t exactly remember.

She spends the entire walk home twisting her pinkie finger with her other hand. It’s not hard enough to break it like she had promised Vanya, but it’s certainly enough to bruise. The pain throbs in time with the sobbing echoing in her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will there ever come a day where i update this at a reasonable time so that people actually see it?  
> no


	5. Come Clean Come Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego is afraid of needles, and it's the worst thing Patch has ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: descriptions of child abuse and child endangerment

The thing is, she wants to come back. She really does. But she doesn’t know how.

With the siblings’ home situation being the way that it is, Patch can’t just show up out of the blue. Vanya had left too soon (with the screaming and the crying and the  _ 4 milliliters of blood) _ to tell her when the best time for her to arrive is. She kind of regrets how long it takes her to get out of her own head enough to tell her mom about the siblings.

She doesn’t say much, not nearly enough to raise concern about them, but she really likes talking about her eccentric friends. Her mom just seems happy that she has people who like her. She punches Eudora slightly in the shoulder over the kitchen counter when she expresses her doubts about seeing them again.

“If you love ‘em, baby, they’ll want to see you. You can just show up.”

“I don’t know if I can, Momma.” Eudora stabs the spoon through the tamale filling she’s in charge of mixing. “Their father doesn’t really like me, so I have to be careful.”

“Sweetheart, these kids care about you. And rightly so!” The girl rolls her eyes. Mom swings her hips as she turns on the front burner. “No adult can get in the way of a Patch with a mission. And from the sounds of things, the siblings are about the same. There isn’t any way in hell you’ll show up and get turned away, no matter what’s going on.”

She remembers her friends back in her old town. How she’d gone to school without lunch for a week and no one had noticed. When she asked for tutoring help because algebra was killing her, but she’d been laughed at for not getting it. The silence around her when she came back to school after her dad died. The fact that nobody had asked where she was going when she said she was moving away. “What if they don’t want me?” she asks, voice small, because it’s so damn likely.

“Honey.” Mom holds her cheeks in her hands and looks deeply in her eyes. Eudora sniffs. “You deserve to be wanted more than anyone. And those kids do. They  _ do,  _ ‘Dora, and I can feel it.” She lets go with one hand and uses it to poke Eudora in the chest where her heart is. “The way you talk about those kids, I can feel it. There’s passion there in the way that they see you. I don’t know them, but I wanna thank them already.” She smiles, sad but truthful. “You can thank them for me, alright, Eudora? Because you’re going over there, jellybean. You’re going because you deserve them and because  _ they deserve you.” _

So, in three days’ time she finds herself reaching from behind a bush in the mansion’s yard and throwing rocks at a random window pane.

It’s Allison’s face that greets her at the glass. Immediately her dour look turns overjoyed; brightening her face and putting crinkles by her eyes. The girl bangs silently on the window, as if saying hello.

“Get The Boy!” Patch mouths at the window. She’s not sure which of the siblings The Boy is, but The Boy can teleport, so that’s her best bet of forming a game plan.

Allison takes a moment to process, but then nods and closes the curtains again. The Girl Scout hides back behind her bush.

She closes her eyes for a moment, and suddenly Five has appeared in front of her. He crouches and looks her in the eyes. “Patch.”

“Five.” Patch smiles. “It’s good to see you.”

“Why are you hiding behind a bush?”

“I wasn’t sure if you had security cameras here.”

Five snorts. “Not on the side of the house. You just look stupid.” He stands back up and holds a hand out for Patch to take, which she does. “What are you here for?”

Patch dusts off her jeans. “To see you.” She looks back up at him. “Is that okay? I can come back later if it’s not.”

“It’s never a good time.” His tone is dark, and Patch feels awful that she agrees. “But I suppose it’s never going to get better than this. Dad is in the house, but I went looking for good hiding spots after the last time you visited.” At Patch’s hopeful look, Five scowls, cheeks aflame. “No, not so you can visit more— _ oh, shut up, Patch _ —but I found some weird room in the basement. Other than a giant box in the corner, it’s fine. We should be able to trickle down there throughout the day.”

“No security cameras?”

“Why are you so obsessed with security cameras?”

“My mom’s a cop, Five!” Patch puffs out her cheeks. “All the stupid criminals are caught on security cameras. I’m not stupid, just so you know.”

“Sure.”

“Hey! I resent that! Take back your tone, young man.”

Five pokes his tongue out at her, so she kicks him in the shin and darts towards the door. The boy immediately blinks right in front of her, glowering with his hands on his hips. “If you don’t behave, I’m not going to take you inside.”

“I’m older than you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m thirteen.”

Five is silent. “Y-yeah, well—,”

“Hah!” Patch pushes out her chest and lifts her chin, feeling very self-important. “Lead me to the basement, baby boy.”

“We’re only a year younger.” pouts Five, but he opens the door anyway. Once Patch is inside, he grabs her hand and they disappear in a flash of blue light.

She can feel in her gut that they haven’t gone far, but her gut isn’t very trustworthy at the moment. She collapses to the concrete floor of the basement and keeps her mouth clenched shut as she dry-heaves, trying to get herself under control. Five awkwardly pats her back. She holds a hand up, letting him know that she’d be just a minute.

When she finally feels like she can breathe without vomiting, she shakily gets to her feet. “I did… I did not like that, Five.”

“It was necessary.”

“I know.” Patch puts a hand on his shoulder, sharing comfort with him as much as trying to keep herself standing. “Just warn me next time, okay?”

Five looks with apprehension at the hand, but leaves it alone. “Sorry, yeah, I can do that.”

“Thank you.” She lets go of the boy and sits by the corner. Patch pulls out a small deck of Uno cards Mom had suggested she stuff in the pockets of her jeans. “Do you want to play?”

Five looks curious about the cards, but shakes his head anyways. “You actually came right in the middle of one of my lessons. I’m still in the bathroom right now. Diego looked pretty pumped when Allison had said you were here, though, so I can send him down if you want.”

Patch places her hands on the floor and leans forward, nodding vigorously. “Yes, please!”

The boy looks bemused. “Is this exciting to you?”

Her cheeks heat up and she turns away, sticking out a middle finger for him. “Don’t be immature, Five.”

She hears a snort and a  _ pop! _ as Five blinks away. He returns a moment later with Diego in hand, who also stumbles, but seems far more used to it than Patch. Diego smiles at her immediately, which causes Five to roll his eyes. Patch throws a card at him, but he blinks away before it hits. She huffs.

“Patch! I muh-missed y-y-yuh-y-you!” He sits down beside her, back against the wall with his legs crossed. She copies him.

“Sorry I didn’t come back for awhile; I couldn’t figure out when was a good time to come.” She shrugs. “It’s never a good time to come, I found out, so I came anyway.”

“I’m glad you did.” Diego peers expectantly at the cards in her hands. “Whuh-what are those?”

“It’s a card game called Uno. It’s really fun. I play with my mom all the time.” She puts them back in her pocket. “We can play later, if you want?”

“‘Course! Buh-but why can’t we plah-pluh-pl-play n-now?”

Patch sighs. “I… I heard some things on my way out the other day.” Diego winces. Patch does too, internally. “It didn’t sound good. I’m sure that you know that.”

“Yeah.”

“I think you should tell me about it.” The good mood is completely gone, just drained out of the room like the color in the boy’s face.

“I duh-don’t want to talk abou-abuh-about it.” Diego pulls his knees up to his chest.

Patch takes one of his hands in both of hers. “Diego, it’s okay. It’s not good to not think about the things that hurt.”

“But they huh-hurrh- _ hurt _ so  _ bad.” _

“That’s okay. Things hurt all the time. But if I was sick and I didn’t feel it at all, I couldn’t know that I was sick. I wouldn’t take any medicine and I would die.” Patch brushes her thumb over his calloused knuckles. “This conversation is going to be very hard. And it is going to hurt. I’m so sorry, Diego, but I want things to get better for you. Just think about it; once this is all over, in a year or two, everything will be okay. We can go to the park and you can try every flavor of ice cream at Coldstone with me.” She shifts her stance, relaxing her posture. “For that to happen, this has to happen, too.”

“Auh-are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you promise?”

Patch thinks back to her promise with Vanya. She can’t fuck up for these siblings again, she just can’t. She isn’t positive which of them would break first; her or the teens. “Beyond an inch of my life.”

Diego lets out a shuttered breath. “I hate special training, buh-because Dad doesn’t let me duh-do it alone.” He flexes the wrist not touching Patch. “‘Fuh-fine motor coh-cuh-con-coun-control,’ he says. It’s bullshit.” The boy hugs himself with his free arm. “I can’t mess uh-up if it means my family gets hurt, so huh-he uses them.”

The girl feels like crying, so she holds his hands tighter.

“We have a buh-basin attached to a scale. He makes them stuh-stuh-st-stand in it, one at a time. He grabs this stupid lit-little needle and he numbs an area; usually the uh-arm. It’s  _ my _ training, nuh-not theirs. And he-he-huh-he…” Diego winces, turning away from Patch. “He uses a stupi-id scalpel, and he just… ih-ih-it’s never big, not enough to be buh-bad, but it’s deep.”

“Fuck, Diego.” Enraged, Patch pulls him into her arms fully as he wipes at his face.

“I have to sta-and at the end of the room, eh-exactly fifty feet away, while he does it. A-and Pogo hands me the dumb fucking sew-sewing needles with the dumb fucking blue threh-thread tied to it, and I just have to throw ‘em.” Fists clenched, the boy shakes. “‘Muh-muh-make them curve under the ski-skin, Number Tuh-Two.’ he says, ‘Let your power-er-ers face the resis-res-resistance. Get better.’” He pushes his palms into his eyes, seeing nothing but stars. “‘Guh-get better.’”

Patch can hardly breathe. Their father is a  _ monster. _ She honestly didn’t know how bad it was when she had asked, and she really wishes she hadn’t. “Diego, it’s okay, we can stop—,”

“Whuh-when all the thread is pulled through-thruh-through, Pogo ties thuh-them and Vanya practices muh-math by subtracting the origi-gi-ginal weight fruh-from the new one. Dad recuh-records how much bluh-blood was lost before I could stuh-sti-stitch them uh-up.” Diego sobs. “I huh-I  _ hate _ special training.”

_ How in the holy hell is she supposed to respond to that? _ It’s the worst fucking thing she’s ever heard and she isn’t afraid to admit the fact. Her heart aches and her eyes fill with hatred. They spill, simply because it’s too much. It’s too much all at once and the siblings—her  _ friends— _ have been dealing with this for years already. It’s not fair. The kids are so goddamn kind; it’s not  _ fair. _

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that.” Patch runs a hand through Diego’s hair, attempting to calm the crying. “God, Diego, you and your family deserve a way out of this. I hate knowing that every time I come back, things are going to be worse.” She pauses. “Do you—do you think you could run? Just, just get away.”

“What?” Diego’s voice is weak, barely a whisper. He peeks out from between his hands in order to look up at her. “Wuh-we can’t do that. We live here. We live with Muh-Mom and all of our stuff.”

“I’m serious, Diego. This isn’t okay. I don’t think you understand how not okay it is.”

“Buh-but Mom! And the house! Auh-and the Academy! Where would we even guh-go?”

“I can take you to my mom and she can talk to the police. We’ll bring Grace, too, because she’s lovely and deserves more than your dad.”

“This doesn’t feel well-wuh-well thought out, Patch.”

“It isn’t!” She runs a hand through her hair, messing up her ponytail. “God, Diego, it isn’t. I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t know  _ what _ to do, and I don’t know  _ where _ to go.” Patch looks back at him. “Your dad is famous. He has so much money. He can do everything I can’t.” She scrubs at her face fervently. Diego grabs her elbow. “But I love you. I love all of you. It hurts to be here and to know that you’re hurting. Things should hurt, yeah, but only to make them better. I can’t let things not get better. I just can’t, Diego.”

Diego sniffs, face utterly wrecked with emotions too quickly fleeting to understand. “Wuh-we can’t just run away, Patch.”

“If you don’t want to leave, I won’t make you.” Patch deflates. “I swear I won’t do that to you.”

They sit in silence by the padded box for a few minutes. Patch absentmindedly hugs Diego, eventually beginning to hum a soft song her dad had once sung to her. Diego clears his throat and stares at the wall.

“Cuh-can I stay huh-here? Just for a few more muh-m-months while we figure this out.”

Patch smiles at the back of Diego’s head; lips slightly wobbly and face askew. “Of course.” She puts on a determined expression. “I’m going to do so much research, you won’t even  _ believe.” _

Diego snorts. “You’re a duh-dork.”

“You’re just mad because I’m stealing your spot as ‘Biggest Dork in the Land.’”

“Thuh-that’s Ben.”

“They recounted the votes and it’s you, actually. Congratulations; I’m so proud.”

Patch laughs as the boy groans. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE NEXT CHAPTER IS HAPPY I SWEAR


	6. Potluck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uno is more fun when played with the whole family.

“Fuck you!”

Patch cheers, pushing the card pile towards Diego. The other siblings (which Five had transported to her over time) riot around her.

“Yuh-you knew that wuh-was the last ‘Rev-rev-revuh-reverse’ card!”

“Uno is a game of strategy, tragedy, and spite. If you underestimate me and my ambition, that isn’t my problem.” The girl puts her hands behind her head and leans back as Diego angrily snatches four more cards to add to his deck.

“I’m almost 100% certain that at least half of the ghosts currently presents’ last words were something along the lines of ‘Wow, I bet I can beat Patch in Uno!’” Klaus sets his stack of 23 cards behind him and gestures vaguely to the empty corner. “See, he agrees with me.”

Vanya snorts. Her head jostles in Patch’s lap, hair splayed out all around her. Patch pats her face, which makes the snort turn into a fully-fledged laugh. Vanya had felt weird ever since she came into the basement room and saw the padded box; just about as weird as Allison. In order to alleviate the tension, Patch is trying harder than ever to keep their spirits up.

“Ah, yes, Patch McLastName, the devious murderess.” Allison places a green seven.

“We’ve met so many murderesses. Frankly, at this point I’d be disappointed if you assumed the trend.” Ben sticks his tongue out at Klaus with his yellow seven in hand.

“You traitorous hoe!” Klaus groans and grabs another card.

“How do you have a hundred cards and not any yellows or sevens?” Five makes Vanya pick two.

“I’m a mistake of god.” Klaus lets his cards fall down on his face like snow as he collapses back to the ground. “Vanya, please win in my honor.”

“Yes!” She puts down a blue three. Patch counters by matching the color. As soon as the card hits the deck, Vanya screams  _ “Uno!” _ up into Patch’s face so loud that she has to blink a second to get her bearings back about her. She looks back down at her hands, considering.

“Huh. You’re right.”

Allison passes her another card, which she reluctantly takes. The girl also gives Vanya a high-five while her arm is in their general area, which makes Vanya beam with delight. Patch looks away from the thick line of stitches running up her inner arm. “We need to all work together to bring her down.”

“Umbrella Academy, assemble!” Klaus holds his fingers in rings around his eyes, mimicking the mask she knows they wear on missions. “Man, now I sound like Luther.”

Patch perks up. “I haven’t met him, yet.”

Diego rolls his eyes and plays some semblance of cards which make Allison groan. “And yuh-you shouldn’t. He suh-s-sucks and would probab-bab-ba-ab-probably tell Dad about you.”

“No he wouldn’t.” Allison skips her turn.

“Are you suh-serious? He tells Dad when huh-h-he brushes his tuh- _ teeth.” _

“He hasn’t yet, has he?”

“Because he doesn’t know.” Ben reaches for the deck. “Unfortunately for my IQ, I agree with Diego.”

“H-hey—!”

“He  _ does _ know, because I told him last week.” Allison reaches for a lock of her hair and starts braiding. “He doesn’t like it, but he says he won’t tell.”

Klaus winces as Five slams a card on the pile, hand moving in an abated motion towards it.  _ “My turn—,” _

“You told him?” His eyebrows pinch in anger. “We talked about this. We don’t tell Mom, we don’t tell Pogo, we don’t tell Dad, and we don’t tell Luther. We had a plan, Allison!”

“It wasn’t fair!” She pushes a hand on the floor. “Patch hadn’t come back for a really long time and I was worried she wouldn’t ever, so I told Luther about it. Can you blame me? All of you would have told me I was stupid for worrying.” Her nails click as she tugs back and forth between them. “He was only mad. B-but I told him how nice Patch is, and about the rumor, and he decided he was okay with it.”

Vanya meekly plays a green six.

A cough. “Well, I’m glad he likes me.” She takes a little too long to grab a card, simply because her mind keeps flipping over the fact that one of the siblings had been worried she wouldn’t visit again.

Allison makes a face. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I think I should meet him anyway.” Patch repeats, much to Diego’s chagrin.

“I guess you have to, now.” Five looks dismayed, speaking to himself under his breath. “Fuck. Should I… should I get him?”

Klaus groans as Five stands up. “Now we have to explain Uno all over again.”

Five, sure enough, blinks out. Barely a moment passes before he returns, suddenly holding hands with a blonde teenager much, much taller than him. Patch resists a laugh the best she can, just because she remembers the “Lego man” comment Klaus and Ben had given her. Ben seems to notice her struggle and bites a smile down in return. In order to be more polite, the Girl Scout gently nudges Vanya in order to stand and brush off her jeans, holding out a hand for Luther.

“Hi, Luther! I’m Patch. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Luther glances sideways at her palm, but shakes it anyway.

“Pleasure.” He stuffs his hands back in his pockets. “I haven’t heard much about you.”

Patch swallows and looks back down at her feet. She understands, of course, both the fact that they  _ couldn’t _ tell Luther about her and the fact that Luther was probably upset with an intruder so much that he was willing to put venom into his words, but with the amount of times she’s heard the exact same sentiment, it still stings. 

“That’s not her fault, Luther.” Ben adjusts the way he’s sitting in order to face them better. “We thought you were going to tell Dad.”

“I didn’t.” He steps slightly closer to Allison. “I didn’t.”

“Thank you.” Patch says, simply because she doesn’t know what else to say.

Luther turns to face her. “You need to prove to be worth that trust. The Umbrella Academy is an esteemed organization and we can’t have it be infiltrated by just anyone Diego—,” he flips to glare at the boy before turning back, “—took off the streets.”

“Look, Luther, if  _ Five _ of all people trusts her, then—,”

Patch nods, cutting off Allison. “What do you want me to do?”

He blinks. “What?”

“I want to be trustworthy, but I don’t know how to prove it to you. What do you want me to do?”

Ben snorts at Luther’s silence. “I don’t think he thought this far.” He motions for Patch to sit back down, which she does gratefully. She makes sure that it’s clear to Vanya she can move back to rest her head in her lap. “Luther gives about a million orders everyday, and we follow maybe six of them. You’re his saving grace.”

“N-not true!” He puffs out his chest. “I’m a very good leader.”

“According to Daddy.” Klaus goes back to organizing his very large stack of cards. “Hey, I did have a yellow!”

Diego slams down a green four. “Puh-Patch doesn’t have to prove anything.”

“She’s a stranger, Diego! I know you love to counter me at every turn, but this is honestly insane—,”

Diego’s palms press against the ground as he looks up at Luther, a dismayed look on his face. “When’s the luh-l-luh-luh-last time anyone cared about you, Luther? Cared about Allisuh-son? Cared about Ben? Klaus? Vuh-Vanya? Five? Me?” He runs his fingers through his hair and glances back at the pile. “Normal kids don’t tuh-talk to the press. They go outside. They eat coo-ookies in every fluh-flavor, which is a fuckton of the-them. We don’t. Patch is the only one that cares thuh-th-the-that we don’t.” Luther’s silent, so Diego continues. “We talk to so many people, Luther. Patch is thuh-the only one that cares.”

Luther’s hands would be shaking if they weren’t in his pockets. Patch can tell because of the way his lip wobbles. She’s extremely uncomfortable to be the subject of this conversation, but she understands it has to be had.

“She could have ulterior motives.”

“Yuh-you don’t know her.” Diego looks back at Patch. “Just-tuh spend a few minutes playing with us, oh-okay? It’s fun.” It’s an olive branch.

Luther stares hard between her and Diego for a minute. She knows he doesn’t trust her, not yet. But with the way Allison is looking at her  _ (“And then I have to fight Luther.” she remembers him saying; no stutter, no doubts. More recently, “He suh-s-sucks.” Diego just looks tired, now.) _ she thinks she might have a chance.

Luther sits down, shoulders raised like hackles.

Patch hands him seven cards, motions gentle. “I’ll show you how to play.”

“Go on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry for the wait! this chapter had less plot in it, so it was harder to write to the level of depth i wanted it to have. however, we pick up the plot again pretty quickly, so don't worry! updates should be back to normal soon :)


	7. Fuses Blow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanya really, really wants a picnic.

Luther seems to accept her, because Patch comes back again, again, and again. She starts calling the basement her room, simply because with the amount of time she spends in it, it might as well be. She hides different card games in the padded box along with crayons, books, and blankets.

Not much develops over that time. She becomes closer friends with all of the siblings, of course, and the siblings seem more tightly nit than before.

She finally learns what their powers are (Vanya’s treatment begins to make a bit of morbid sense once she remembers who their father is, but also  _ what the fuck is up with you, Ben) _ and she gets to know them as the Hargreeves, not just the nameless siblings down the road.

Patch catches a glimpse of Pogo once while sneaking up to Diego’s room to see one of the new knives Grace had bought for him, and she almost flips her shit. She’s most proud of her composure in that moment than any other in her life.

All in all, she becomes some sort of attachment to the family, like a Post-It Note with “& Patch” scribbled on it in marker. She’s allowed in whenever she wants and she’s gotten very good at walking quietly in the spots between security cameras.

In short, it’s not strange when she shows up to the house again this week with her backpack pulled tightly to her. She quickly makes her way down to her room, shifting one of Allison’s slippers to the right so she knows that Patch is here. They have a few covert systems like that; small changes only Patch is allowed to make so their father never finds out. She moves Vanya’s shoe, too, because she hadn’t seen her in a few days. The two girls are usually the most available.

Patch only gets through a few chapters of her book of memoirs from people who had run away from home when she’s suddenly being hugged from behind by Allison’s strong arms.

“Patch!” Apparently Vanya made it as well. “I missed you!”

“I missed you, too.” The Girl Scout smiles softly, reaching to set her backpack on the ground beside her. 

She hears the telltale sound of socked feet (with one barefoot pair, as usual) running down the stairs. The brothers turn the corner at the same time, a ball of tangled limbs and excitement. Five just blinks in to sit beside Vanya, while Luther straggles to the back, still slightly apprehensive as he always is. Eventually they slide in in their usual circle around her, all exchanging their individual greetings.

“I almost didn’t come today, but Mom suggested that we have a picnic. I know we can’t leave your house, but it should be okay to have it down here.” Patch moves her bag into the middle of the circle. “Ben, can you get one of the blankets from the box?” Ben gets up to do so.

“Oh my god, I’ve read so much about those! They’ve always sounded fun.” Allison stares at the bookbag, enamored.

“It’s one of the few things I want to show you that I haven’t actually done, so I can’t say with complete certainty that this is what a picnic is. But I mean, blankets and food and games should be the gist, right?” She shifts so her legs are closer to her body. Ben returns with the blanket and she takes it gratefully. “Thanks, Ben.” With her extra hand, she reaches for the bag and pulls open the zipper. “So, anyway, it was kind of hard to work with your individual dietary restrictions—,”

The bag spills dirt and muck onto to concrete floor. Patch and the Hargreeves are stunned for a full minute, just staring at the mess.

Her hand gets sticky when she reaches in, but there has to be something,  _ anything _ she can save from the slosh of mud. Her plastic containers, her homemade food, her library books, all things she can’t afford to replace. It’s all gone. She worked so hard, and now this is happening; she wanted to share with the kids, she wanted to have a good time today even though today massively sucked overall, she...

“Is this a joke?” Luther snaps, body language tense.

Patch looks up at him. “No, no, no, no—,” she goes back to dumping out her bag, mud sloshing on the floor. “No, I promise, I wanted to have a picnic! Mom stayed up with me all night to make the food and I…” She sniffs, dropping the bag on the floor with a wet squelching sound. She sits back on her knees and feels her body droop, still watching the puddle spread. “They ruined it. They ruined it.”

Diego pulls her hands away from the mess while Klaus moves the bag into a corner far away from them. Vanya starts wiping up the puddle with the blanket. “Patch, whuh… what’s going uh-uh-oh-on?”

Her fingers drip dirt onto the floor in a meticulous pattern. “I only left my bag alone for five minutes while I was changing.” She allows herself a moment of distraught silence before she straightens, wiping at her eyes with the crook of her elbow. Her jeans soak even further when she rubs her hands on them. “Sorry. Um. For the mess. We can probably find something else to do?”

Five frowns, head cocked to the side. “Did something happen to your stuff, Patch?”

“It’s okay.” She looks around for another activity. There’s her book of memoirs, coated in grime. Mom had always told her replacing library books was expensive.  _ I don’t want to go broke again. _ “I think I have some card games here I’ve been meaning to introduce you guys to. Ben, can you–?”

“No.” Ben interrupts, taking the blanket from Vanya. He wraps Patch’s hands in it in an attempt to clean them while his sister moves to sit beside the girl once again. “I want to talk about this.”

“If you don’t tell us, I’ll just rumor you again.”

“We talked about not using your powers for everything, Allison.”

“This is about you, Patch! You’re so stubborn.”

Patch groans. She really wants them to have a model of friendship and trust that they can refer back to when meeting new people, so there’s nothing she would ever do to mess it up. She’s almost certain Allison knows that and is using it to her advantage. “Fine. I guess I’m not very well-liked by anyone other than you guys. The girls in my troop are still getting used to me, and they think it’s weird that I talk back to the leaders and not very much to them. They just push me around a little bit. It’s really fine.”

Allison’s grip on her knees tightens substantially and Vanya tenses. “Your  _ cult _ does this to you?” Klaus hisses.

“It’s nothing like your dad, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“That’s no excuse.” Vanya frowns, cheeks flushed with anger. The crayons in the corner make noises as they rattle. Grace must be vacuuming upstairs, she guesses, but it’s weird that she can’t feel the vibrations herself. “People can’t be mean to you. That’s not fair.”

“Sometimes people are just mean anyways.” She shrugs, jostling Ben. “I don’t mind.”

“I should huh-have known you’d b-b-buh-be like this.” Diego makes a face at the bag in the corner as Ben throws the soiled blanket at it. “This kind of shuh-shit doesn’t fly, Patch! You’ve always tuh-told us that people ou-out-tuh-outside of the Academy are nice.”

“They are!” Patch turns towards Diego. “I told you they are and I don’t ever lie. Almost everyone is kind and generous and sweet.” She makes a face. “Just not all of them.”

“How can you act like that?” Vanya’s voice dips in desperation. “It’s so easy to be nice when you’ve got nice things right there in front of you. If they’d just talk to you instead of ruining your property, then they’d get it. There are easier alternatives! Those are not good people.”

“Let’s not be rude, Vanya.”

“We’ve never had a picnic! And now we won’t get one.” The shaking of the crayons is accompanied by a book flipping open. Patch blinks. “The world  _ hates _ us and now that you’re here, it  _ hates _ you, too! You’re the only good person we’ve got and the world is trying to mess it up!”

“Vanya, I won’t let the world mess it up.” The lights flicker overhead. Klaus and Ben look at each other, concerned. Allison is stuck staring at the items in the box, completely motionless as tears fall down her face. Luther stands up. “I’ll always come back. We can have a picnic next time, okay?”

The girl’s cheeks turn red with anger as her eyes flare white.  _ “Not if they kill you!” _

Above them, the fuses blow. Patch screams as Five blinks her to the opposite corner, away from the falling glass. It’s dark, but Vanya is glowing enough that she can see faint outlines. The girl continues, wind beginning to whip around them. “We work so hard all the time! I have to watch as Dad  _ tortures  _ you, as criminals  _ shoot _ you, as your powers  _ kill _ you. I thought… I thought that  _ one person, _ just  _ one person _ could be safe. That the world could stop sucking so much for a second!” She clenches her fists at her sides, her uniform slowly washing white as well. “I thought things were better; that the way I was looking at things was just skewed because of the Academy, but it isn’t. I’m seeing everything just fine.” She snarls.

Klaus steps forward, hands trembling. “Vanya, it’s not like that. If the Earth is fucked up, it at least stayed a little okay because there are people like Patch.”

Vanya whips around. “How would you know?” A red crayon pulls itself out of the box and aims at Klaus from her side. “Dad pulls you away for individual training and you  _ scream. _ You go outside, yelling like the devil is eating your guts, and nobody helps.” Klaus flinches, Ben moving to yank him back. “Nobody helps, nobody cares!”

“We care about each other!” Five blinks in and out, taking Diego’s knives one by one with him, just in case whatever Vanya’s doing tries to use it as ammo. “That’s enough! It’s enough for us!”

“Are you  _ crazy? _ That’s not enough for anyone!” Vanya steps forward, books sliding along the floor with her.

Luther grabs her from behind.

He barely struggles to keep a hold on her, however much she squirms to get out of his grasp.  _ “Let me go!” _ she screams, voice shrill and almost inhuman. Her eyes brighten even more as books begin pelting Luther in the head. He doesn’t flinch.  _ “Let me go, let me go, let me go, letmegoletmegoletmegoletmego!” _ Vanya sobs, the glass of the padded box shattering.  _ “LUTHER!” _

Patch steps by Five and Diego, both of whom try to pull her back. Instead, she starts yanking at the back of Luther’s shirt. “Stop it! Stop! You’re not helping!”

“She could hurt someone!” Luther’s voice cracks and his arms tighten. Vanya wails. “Goddammit, just do something while I hold her here.”

Patch is just about to try to get him to let go again, but Allison is suddenly there, reaching for Vanya.

Her hands take Vanya’s in hers as a card flies past her face, leaving a thin line of blood. “I’m sorry.” She whispers.

The wind dies down a little. Vanya stops struggling. “What?” Her voice is hoarse.

“I’m so sorry.” She tries to hug the girl around Luther, so Luther lets go, trusting Allison with her. Patch had been working with him on trust lately, so she’s proud. “I just… I just remembered, and he made me—Vanya, I would never do that to you. I didn’t want to do it.” Vanya’s arms slowly pull around her sister. “I’m glad you have your powers back.”

“What… what are you talking about?”

Allison pulls away, taking Vanya’s hands back. She looks the girl in the eyes. “Vanya, I… Dad, he made me rumor you into forgetting that you could do this; that you’re powerful and wonderful.” Her gaze drops back down to the floor and she bites the inside of her cheek. “I’m so sorry.  _ God, _ I’m so sorry, Vanya.”

Vanya’s shoulders drop and the books fall to the floor with a myriad of loud sounds. The white light slowly fades away, fluorescents in the padded box kicking on in its place. She slowly looks around at the carnage. “I—I can do that?” She glances back up at Allison. “You did that to me?”

“I wish I…” She clears her throat, starts again. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

Vanya goes quiet in contemplation. The Hargreeves and Patch don’t dare breathe, waiting for the girl’s next outburst. “Okay.” she says instead.

“Okay?” Allison repeats.

“Okay.”

Diego snorts, moving forward to hug Vanya, eyes wet. “Out of every-rything you could have luh-learned from Patch.”

Vanya hugs her brother back just as fiercely. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Each of the siblings gently drifts towards Vanya, each adding themselves to the hug. Patch stands back, happy that they’re treating the situation so healthily. Diego reaches out of the pile and pulls her by the hand into the midst of everyone.

“So, we’re agreed that we’re not telling Dad about this?”

“Yeah, fuck that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to hannatea on tumblr for help with the idea for this chapter!  
> i’m finally updating at a reasonable time, but i’m updating from my phone, so hopefully it doesn’t mess up


	8. The Hargreeves Family Band

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Number Seven has her powers back, the family has to work on managing them without Reginald's help.

Vanya is, unsurprisingly, very astounded that she has powers.

Everyone except for Allison and Patch is, too.

Patch is sure she would be surprised if she had known Vanya as a person who was supposed to have powers but didn’t. Instead, she had known all of the Hargreeves as people who weren’t supposed to have powers (because nobody else does), then people who  _ did _ have powers, and now Vanya is also in on it. As a neutral party, she’s taken up trying to work psychologically with Vanya getting used to her abilities.

Vanya’s powers are very volatile. They’re tied to her emotions, Five thinks, so Ben and Klaus have been working with her on self-control. Ben lectures her on keeping feelings muted and holding whatever’s struggling inside you deep within a cage, while Klaus teaches how to embrace vibrant emotions as a part of life and to not react to them with her brain.

Allison shares what she knows, which isn’t much. Brainwashing her sister had been a traumatizing experience for her, so she was the only one that remembered these parts of their younger years. What she can’t answer, she supplements with kinder words; something she can do better than anyone else.

When Vanya is scared of all that she can do, she goes to Luther. Luther is still working with Patch on mindfulness (not that he knows this, of course) so sometimes he messes up, but most of the time, Vanya only requests to be held in a tight hug so she can’t break her hands loose.

Five asks questions. Five finds solutions. He’s been thinking about stealing Reginald’s notebooks, but they all know it’s a risky maneuver. He swears he’ll do it, though.

It’s Five who finds out about the medicine. Vanya had mentioned off-handedly that she was thankful for Patch making her less nervous around the house, which meant that she could stop having that awful feeling she has after dry-swallowing her pills. Five asks to see them, and then hands them to Klaus, who was better at chemistry than the rest.

He whistles. “Van, that’s almost 5 times the adult dosage for this stuff. Four of these’d knock out an elephant.” He hands back the bottle with an apologetic look and Vanya holds it away from her, making a disgusted face.

_ “What?” _

“It’s somewhere between a low-grade tranquilizer and high-grade anxiety medication. The nutrition facts are, like… buckwild. It’s the kind of stuff that messes with your brain chemistry.” He looks to Five. “Her brain’s got all messed with.”

Five growls, taking the bottle back from Vanya who doesn’t seem like she wants it anyway. He reads the back of it, trying to support Klaus’s suggestion, and what he finds doesn’t please him. He throws the bottle into the padded box, satisfied with the sound of pills cascading out onto the steel floor. “What a  _ bastard! _ I thought he couldn’t get any more low.”

“Why… why would he do that?” Vanya sounds small again, which had become increasingly rare lately.

Ben frowns. “When Klaus had to get surgery that one time, the morphine blocked out the ghosts. Maybe it was meant to block your powers?”

“That makes sense.” Allison tugs on the end of her skirt, self-conscious. “She only started taking them after I rumored her.”

“I—,” she sniffs, wiping her eyes. “I could have done all this the whole time?” The candle in the middle of the floor that they use for self-control practice flickers. “If I had just stopped taking the pills, stopped being such a scaredy cat… I could have fit in with you?” The flame grows brighter and then shuts off, the wick disintegrating to ash before it can even turn black. “We could have been close? I could have been important? He made me  _ do this to myself?” _

“Fuck him.” Diego moves over and pulls Vanya into a hug. “We guh-g-g-got close uh-anyway.”

Patch puts a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve never not been important, Vanya. Now you just have your powers back.”

“Somehow you managed to stay awesome while drugged out of your mind, so that’s a pretty big indicator of you being an amazing person.” Klaus adds. She  _ was  _ drugged, wasn’t she? Since she was a kid she’d been practically roofied. Patch almost stomps up the stairs and kills the man herself.

Vanya hugs Diego tighter. “I don’t want to take any more pills, please.”

“I’m burning the damn prescription.” Five writes in his notebook. “Who would give that kind of dosage to a  _ child?” _

“Your father is rich,” Patch adds. She pulls away from Vanya. This isn’t her moment to have. “People will do anything for money.”

“Humanity sucks.” Ben deflates.

The conversation ends there, for a while, simply because they don’t want to think about it anymore. Vanya might get set off again by the fact that the world is so needlessly cruel or Five might blink away and come back with blood on his hands. Patch isn’t a fan when that happens. The silence suits them well; Luther had just come back for a training exercise, so Patch is back to reading books about muscle massages pressed up against her face so that he can see. Five scribbles angrily in his book while Allison draws pictures in hers. Ben and Klaus are playing Bubblegum in the corner. After Patch had taught them the game, they had fallen in love with it. Vanya snorts from Diego’s arms whenever Ben messes up the rhyme and Klaus makes an offended gasp.

The girl clears her throat after around an hour or so. “Can we… can we go back to training?” Diego lets go. “If you don’t mind, of course. Sorry.”

“Absolutely!” Allison shuts her book. “Ben and Klaus, get over here.”

“Actually, can I work with Patch and Diego?”

Allison blinks momentarily. Vanya rarely asks for help from them, because their training works more with her powers than anyone else’s. Given that Vanya isn’t exactly happy with how destructive her powers are, she doesn’t blame her for not working with the couple. “Of course.”

Patch smiles widely and pulls her new backpack with her in front of Vanya. Diego sits beside her, looking curiously at the pack. “I actually had a new idea!” She unzips the bag, holding her breath all the while. When she sees a lack of mud, she breathes out again. They hadn’t done it since, but she’s still afraid. “I was listening to you talking about how your powers work last time, right?”

“Yeah.” Vanya nods. “The sound just channels with my emotions, I think, and turns into force.”

“Exactly! So, I brought sounds.” She pulls out a tambourine, a cow bell, a harmonica, an old plastic container and a stick, a pan flute, a set of maracas, a guiro, and an old spoon. “I know it’s no violin, but I had to steal them from my troop leaders, so they’ll have to do. I told them I dropped the box in the river.” She winces. “I’ll bring them back soon. But anyway, what I was thinking was that we could all make sounds and you could try to focus on each individual one. With that, you can try and bend the spoon.” She hands Vanya the spoon. “Is… is that okay?”

Vanya feels the utensil between her fingers and tests the strength. It won’t budge, just like all the other spoons they’ve tried. Vanya always breaks them in half, shoots them across the room, or doesn’t touch it at all. She looks back up at Patch and beams. “It’s perfect.”

Patch’s cheeks burn at the recognition, so she looks back down at the instruments. “Each of you can come up and pick one, then!”

Klaus whoops and immediately steals the maracas and the cowbell. He keeps the shakers for himself and hands the bell to Ben, who inspects it curiously. Five grabs the guiro. Allison takes the tambourine and lends the container with the stick to Luther, instructing him on how to hit it like a drum. Diego goes for the flute. This leaves Patch with the harmonica, which she’s satisfied with, because she’s probably the only one that can figure out how to play it.

The room goes to chaos for a few moments as everyone tries to decide how to use their instrument. Patch remembers having this moment in elementary school, watching everyone around her play with wild abandon and the room sounding godawful. “Does everyone get it?” She interrupts.

No dissenting noises is as good as it’s going to get.

She puts a hand on Vanya’s knee. “Are you ready?”

The girl nods, looking between each of her siblings. “Are you just gonna… all play at the same time?”

“It’s going to be so awful!” Klaus shouts with glee, immediately shaking the fuck out of his maracas. Patch almost feels bad for the little wooden things.

“Remember,” Ben flicks his wrist so the cowbell makes a noise, “constrain the sounds,”  _ clang, _ “to the middle of,”  _ clung, _ “your chest,”  _ clang, _ “and release,”  _ clung,  _ “in only one,”  _ clang, _ “direction.”

Allison covers the ear closest to the boys with one hand and shakes the tambourine with the other. “We love you!” she adds over the ruckus.

Luther and Five simply play their instruments as intended, neither looking particularly happy about it.

Diego’s pan flute playing is horrendous, but so is everything else, so she can’t exactly judge. His breaths second-guess themselves just like his words do, and she finds it rather cute. She huffs a laugh as he plays one note five times and then does a scale down the entire woodwind. He grins up at her and starts playing with more vigor, ears slightly pink.

Patch closes her eyes and puts the harmonica up to her lips, beginning to play the way her parents had taught her when she was younger. She lets her left hand flutter with the sound, simply enjoying being in the moment.

Vanya’s giggles add their own tone to the cacophony. The lights flicker behind Patch’s eyelids with each burst of laughter, but they’re used to that by now. It’s just become a little feature of hers they’ve all come to appreciate. She can hear the hum as Vanya concentrates on the sounds, letting her select which ones resonate most with her for the correct frequency. Five had made them all packets of studying materials on sound waves once he had found out how Vanya’s powers work.

Something creaks. Patch can hardly tell beyond the sound of the Hargreeves Family Band, but it’s the only sound she’s been wanting to hear. She plays louder, stronger, just so Vanya can feel the support in not breaking the spoon.

A gasp. The lights go out for a moment, but then come back on. Patch rips her eyes back open and rushes the harmonica back down, expecting the worst. Their disgusting song ends on a minor tone which repeats itself in the echo of the room.

“What, are you okay?” Allison crawls slightly forward.

Vanya grins wider than they’ve seen her do before. She holds up the spoon in the air, now laden with a crook in its side. “I bent the spoon! Oh gosh, I actually did it!”

The Hargreeves and Patch cheer harder than ever. Patch is very glad the basement is soundproof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the break! i was working on some future chapters!  
> anyway, here's a break before the plot REALLY begins


	9. Refugee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five never steals that notebook.

Patch really tries her hardest not to do things she’ll regret. And to be fair, she doesn’t regret not telling her mom the truth about the Hargreeves. She’s still trying to figure out the situation with them herself and her mom might freak out and make rash actions. The teens deserve to be saved, really, but every time she thinks about it she thinks about how much money their father has. How many lawyers he can buy that they can’t. How much bribing he can do and how much he’s already done.

It scares her. So she doesn’t tell her mom.

She tells Mom the nice things about the kids, though. Luther has the brightest smile. Diego is the cutest person she’s ever seen. Allison is always kind and curious. Klaus’s eccentricities make him easy to love. Five might be the smartest kid in the world. Ben has a caring heart. Vanya’s growth is beautiful to watch.

It’s almost certain that Mom suspects something, but she trusts Patch enough not to ask.

She loves her mom.

It’s a Thursday, which means that she can’t visit her friends. It does mean that Mom has a day off of work, though, because she had needed to go to a doctor’s appointment earlier so she called in sick. Mom always sets time aside after dinner when she’s home in order to watch movies rented from the library with Eudora. They’re never interesting, but Mom makes jokes about the characters and sometimes they turn the sound off and do voice-overs.

Mom is in the middle of an artificial tirade about the ethics of cow breeding when the doorbell rings. She cocks her head and picks up the remote to pause the movie. Eudora’s legs go cold without the blanket, but she’s also curious about who would visit in the middle of the night. It’s almost ten.

Both Patches make their way to the door, Eudora grabbing her mother’s hand for security.

Mom turns the knob quickly and Eudora’s formal greeting dies in her throat.

“G… Grace?” She blinks. Her eyes take in everyone else around her. “Oh god, what happened? Come inside right now.”

“I’m so glad I kept the data on your address.” Grace’s smile is off-putting, almost more so than it usually is. She looks like she wants to cry, wants to be angry, but she can’t. Diego holds on to her dress and she keeps a warm hand on his shoulder, almost guiding him inside the apartment. Luther stands beside him, back tall as he keeps a sobbing Vanya upright on his shoulders. She gasps out a wail at the sight of Patch. Ben has his arm elevated, holding her hand. He keeps Klaus behind him, who blinks sluggishly at the light in the house. Allison is on the other side of Grace, eyes red and looking at the floor. She has Five in a loose hold, who staggers inside, almost unsure.

His cheek is purple and black, oozing thick blood from one edge of the rectangular bruise. He drips red from his lips onto the floor.

Mom obviously has no idea what’s going on, but she sees how Patch helps Allison walk Five to the breakfast counter, so she takes off in the direction of the bathroom in order to gather their First Aid kit.

“We ran away.” Luther says, bluntly. Once Five is secure, she leads the stronger teenager towards the couch so he can put Vanya on it. Patch quickly picks up her fallen blanket and tucks it around the crying girl.

“You  _ what?” _

Mom comes back with the kit and sits in front of Five on the other barstool. She puts on her welcoming smile as best she can. “Hi, I’m Ms. Patch. I think you know my daughter? You must be those friends she talks so much about.”

“Mom, that’s Five.” Patch stands behind her chair. “God, that’s worse than I thought. Five, can my mom fix your… uh, situation there for you?”

Five nods languidly. “If she wants.” Patch makes a face and pulls his chin up. He doesn’t resist, which concerns her. His eyes barely react to the kitchen light; one pupil the size of the moon and the other almost nonexistent.

Mom hisses. “That’s a concussion, alright.” She pulls out a wipe to clean Five’s cheek. “This is going to sting a bit, okay, Five?”

“Stings already.” He scrubs at his mouth with the back of his pajama sleeve.

Patch turns around to look at the rest of the kids. Ben and Klaus are sitting with Vanya, playing with her hair and trying desperately to get her to stop crying. Allison is at the sink with Grace, who is trying to get the blood out of the silk of her pajamas. Diego has a whispered fight with Luther going on from the corner.

“Guys, what’s going on? Why are you here? Why is Five like that?” Her heart aches for them. As much as she loves them, she doesn’t want them here. Them reaching out for help on their own only means that the situation has gotten so much worse.

“Five tuh-tried to take Dad’s nuh-n-n-note-t-tebook. He got caught.” Diego twists his fingers together.

“He caned me across the face.” Five snarls.

Mom’s hand clenches around the gauze. Patch brushes against her, letting her know to let the kids keep talking. The woman shoots a look at her daughter, telling her that they’re going to have to talk about this later.

“Dear old Daddy’s favorite knee-jerk punishment.” Klaus tucks a lock of Vanya’s hair behind her ear. “I hate that stupid cane.”

Patch starts assembling an ice pack just to keep herself holding her tongue. She wants to go back to the mansion and rip the man to shreds. She wants to meet him and watch him hurt. She wants to not feel the anger she does because it’s not helpful. None of these things happen.

“He’d been getting suspicious for awhile.” Ben adds, “The notebook was the last straw. He found out about Vanya.”

“No.” Patch whispers, horrified. It’s like she’s watching a video of a trainwreck that’d already happened.

“I was only passed out for a few minutes. When I wake up, Dad’s screaming his head off at Luther and Allison.” He winces as Mom presses the gauze against his wound. Mom brushes a thumb over his cheek. “He just… he grabs Vanya by the arms and starts dragging her away.”

Vanya’s breath hitches with a cry.

“The basement wasn’t always your room.” Allison whispers. “When he hadn’t given up on Vanya yet, he used to keep her locked up in that box for  _ days _ while her powers cooled down. I don’t… He could have done that. He could have done that again.” Grace moves to sit Allison on the floor in the living room, leaned up against a pillow. The sleeve of her shirt is soaking wet and pink. She turns to her sister. “It was really okay, Vanya. It’s okay for your powers to act up in times like that.”

“We were working on control.” she sniffs.

“Dad isn’t worth control.” Five spits.

“Vanya put up a good fight,” Luther interrupts, “but Dad’s determination is impeccable. He was going to get her downstairs no matter what.”

Patch’s heart stops. “He saw our stuff, didn’t he?”

Diego’s face screws up in a look Patch can’t determine and he looks down to work on sharpening the knife he has with him. “Tore ev-every drawing off the-th-thuh-the wall. Stomped on the cuh-candle. Threw the books. Rip-rih-ripped the blankets.” Patch puts her hands up to her mouth, feeling her eyes burn. Those memories are important to her, absolutely, but she knows she’s the only friend the kids have. Reginald decimated their entire second start at a childhood. “Everything. Guh-guh-g-gone.”

The light flickers up above and the television turns into static. Klaus and Ben wrap Vanya in a tight hug.

“Nobody would tell him anything. He wanted me to rumor them into telling the truth, but I wouldn’t do it. I can’t do something like that again.” Allison stares at the wall.

“Dad’s never been out of control before.” Luther folds his hands together and slumps in his seat by the door. “It’s scary. I don’t like it. I don’t like him.” Patch’s cheeks turn wet. Coming from Luther—Dad’s favorite—that means everything.

_ “I killed him!” _ keens Vanya, breaking one of the lamps in the living room. Patch absentmindedly reaches for her backpack and grabs her tiny homemade dustpan to pick up the glass with.

“You only knocked him out, Vanya. It’s okay. Pogo said she would tell Mom if it got bad.” Ben wipes the tears off of her face.

“That scream  _ was _ impressive, though.” Klaus decides.

Patch tosses the glass away and presses the ice pack to Five’s cheek. Five takes it in his own hand and nods in thanks, eyes not focusing clearly on the girl. “We left. We saw Mom on the way out so we took her with us. She said she knew where the house of a girl our age was and we figured that was you.”

“Thank you, Grace.”

Grace blinks. “Oh, no need for—!” Her eyes go blank and she clicks her tongue. “Sorry. I meant ‘you’re welcome,’ dear.”

Luther turns to Mom. “Ma’am, I’m so sorry for barging in, but Patch is the only person we know. If we could stay here, just for the night—,”

“Honey,” Mom stands up and wraps an arm around Patch. She knows the older woman wants to hug all of them, but she deals with abuse and trauma victims on a daily basis. She knows the drill. “You are always welcome here. You are kind, good kids, and my house is so much better with you in it. We’ll settle this in the morning and I’ll talk to your mother. Let’s get some beds arranged, yes? You all must be mighty tired.”

The kids all sag in relief, as if Patch would ever let them suffer on their own.

Mom looks down at Patch. “Eu, there’s a few blankets around the apartment. I’ll move the couch if you gather those to lay on the floor in the living room. And get some new pajamas for Five and the other girl, okay?”

Patch nods fervently. “Of course, Mama.”

As she walks back to her bedroom, she hears Mom getting introduced to all of the children. There’s a set of feet following her and she’s almost certain she knows who it is. She opens the door to her room and slinks inside. Diego follows.

“Do you want to help me pick up my mattress? I know you all don’t mind a good ol’ fashioned dogpile, so that’s probably more comfortable than the blankets.” She knows him. She knows he feels useless when he can’t do something to help.

“I can do that.” Diego grabs an edge and hoists the mattress to its side, waiting for Patch to pick up the slack.

Diego looks tired. His eyes are red-rimmed which she expects, but the bags are new. There’s a weariness to him. Patch doesn’t want him to grow up; not yet, at least. She frowns.

The mattress hits the floor of the living room loudly, but doesn’t disrupt the conversation Mom is having with the kids at the table while Grace makes cookies. She excuses herself and tells Diego to go meet her mother if he’s going to stay for awhile. She has to get clothes for Five and Allison, anyways.

There are a few pairs of old basketball shorts in her drawer as well as some ratty t-shirts. Self-consciously, she sits on the floor and feels the fabric. It’s thin and smells pretty obviously of laundry detergent. She knows it’s so much less than the Hargreeves are used to. Not that she would ever even suggest that they go back to live in that awful mansion, but she hopes Grace has a financial plan in mind, because they can’t support ten people off of her mom’s income. She hugs the shirts to herself and gets back up, looking through the drawer for something better.

A small paper catches between her fingers. Patch takes it out.

It’s a drawing Diego had made a month or two ago. He’s not usually one for art, so she’d been rather surprised to see him doodling with the crayons, but she wouldn’t dare mention it. He looked calm, pensive. It’s a good look for him.

Eventually the teens were called to bed, so it was time to clean up. Diego had looked panicked and sent the other kids upstairs before him. He thrusted the paper towards her.

“I duh-don’t want it.” Patch made a bemused face and took it.

“Where do you want me to hang it up?” There’s hardly a free space on the concrete walls, nowadays.

Diego’s brows pinched, ears red. “Nowhere. Just… just have ih-it, okay?” He picked his blazer up off of the floor. “Good-guh-goo-goodnight, Puh-Patch.”

Patch watched as he went upstairs, paper clutched to her chest. “Night, Diego.”

Looking at the drawing now, it still makes her smile. There’s eight little stick figures, immaculately straight in line structure, simply because Diego’s hands never wavered. It reminds her of Grace. Each has these little details that resemble them to the boy’s siblings, including one tall figure on the end with a flat ponytail. There’s a large red heart drawn where the person’s chest would be if she wasn’t made of sticks. It’s immensely personal to her.

She shoves the drawing behind the clothes and walks out the door with her collection in hand.

Mom is snorting at something Klaus said. Klaus is draped over the breakfast counter, something Patch knows she would never be able to do. She’s glad Klaus can.

“I have clean clothes for Five and Allison. They’re not—,” she looks at her Mom, apology dying in her mouth. Mom works hard for what Patch has, so she can’t say anything about it with her looking. She feels like an awful daughter, sometimes. “Here. The bathroom is right down the hall. The door is open, so you should be able to find it. If not, just ask, okay?”

Allison nods gratefully and takes the pajamas. “Thank you so much, Patch.” She puts a hand on the small of Five’s back and helps him out of his seat. He growls, upset at the treatment, but he’s wobbly enough that he has no choice but to accept.

As she walks by Diego to sit by Vanya and check on her, she drops the picture into his lap discreetly. 

She wants to keep it. She wants to keep it something  _ awful. _

But she doesn’t need it right now.

As Vanya leans tiredly into Patch’s side, the girl watches as Diego rubs the wax on the paper with his thumbs, staring at the crude representations of his siblings on the paper. He sniffs and shoves the drawing in his shirt pocket, scrubbing at his nose with his sleeve. There’s a small smile she hadn’t seen all night.

That night, Grace goes into Patch’s room in order to work on a game plan. Both mothers tuck the children into the tiny mattress on the floor, all of them managing to fit together like sardines. The Girl Scout deigns to stay on the couch, staying as vigilant as she can over the course of the night in order to keep them safe.

Patch wakes up tomorrow morning to the smell of pancakes she hasn’t had in years and a calloused, knife-throwing hand in hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one day, i hear you say????? well the truth of the matter is that i'm counting posting at 4 am as posting yesterday so really it's okay.  
> running away is the first step to not living with your shitty father!!!!


	10. Getting Settled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both mothers have plans. The kids need clothes.  
> There are consequences to your actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> before this chapter starts (because i don't want to put it at the end notes), i know i gloss over a lot of feel-good stuff here! with the plot the way it is, i don't want to mess up the pacing too horibly in order to focus on it.  
> IF you want to see that good good fluff stuff, let me know! if i get enough interest/requests, then i might make this a series after the fic is over and include some extra scenes that i didn't think fit into the overall plot. i don't want to annoy everyone on ao3 by posting another fic for an au they haven't read, so the only way i feel comfortable doing so is if i can prove there's enough interest!  
> okay, i'll stop rambling now. i hope you enjoy the chapter!!!

Patch doesn’t let go of Diego’s hand until the boy stirs. As soon as he starts blinking, she disentangles his fingers from hers and sits up, stretching her back. The couch isn’t exactly good quality, so it’s not very comfortable to sleep on.

She steps over the mattress full of limbs in order to pull the curtains apart slightly, given that it’s almost eight in the morning.

“Mornin’, Patch.” Diego yawns and rubs at his eyes. Klaus kicks him and hisses for the boy to shut up.

Patch snorts. “Sleep well?” She trots over to the kitchen in order to start gathering plates from the cupboards. “Hi, Grace.”

“It’s good to see you up and about!” Grace bops a finger on her nose before turning back to the pancakes. There’s so many different kinds; blueberry sitting on top of chocolate chip on top of peanut butter banana on top of plain. Patch swallows. Mom probably forgot to tell Grace to conserve what they have in the cabinet.

“Ungh,” Diego climbs up onto his knees and then shakily makes his way to the breakfast bar to sit. “I slept suh-so-s-so well, dude. Wuh-what time is it?”

“Eight.”

_ “Holy shit!” _

“Language.” admonishes Grace.

The boy turns around in his chair. “Five, dih-d-did you hear that? We slept uh-until  _ eight!” _

Five groans, shoving a pillow around his head. “And we  _ could _ sleep longer if you’d shut the fuck up, asshole.”

“Language.”

Patch laughs, face open and bright in the kitchen’s fluorescents. The plates clink as she walks by Diego in order to set a plate in front of him. He’s watching her prance around, cheeks slightly flushed. She morphs into a softer smile and gives him a fork to match. “Do you want to wake up the rest of your siblings while you’re at it?”

Diego snaps back to attention. “Yuh-yuh-yeah!” He cups his hands around his mouth. “One! Three! Fuh-Four! Five! Six! S-s-s-s-Seven! Get up!”

Each child blearily comes back into consciousness, crawling to stand before they’re even really awake. It’s like a kind of trance which quickly breaks once they see their surroundings.

“Wuh’ sleepin’, Di.” Ben rubs at his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

“It’s  _ eight!” _ muses Diego conspiratorially.

Klaus pauses in ruffing up his hair, hands stuck in place. “You’re kidding.”

At Diego’s head shake, Allison cheers, pulling Luther’s hand up in order to give it a high-five which he hardly participates in. “I didn’t even know people could wake up after four!” She shakes Vanya who blinks, startled. “Oh my gosh, I love sleeping so much.”

“M-me too?” Vanya guesses. She doesn’t show any of the distress from last night, but her eyes are slightly puffy from all the tears.

“Children, come grab a plate!” Grace lays the stacks of pancakes on the breakfast bar and turns around, placing her hands on Patch’s shoulders. “Darling, could you go wake your mother for me? I’ve got some plans to discuss with her and everyone has to eat something. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!”

Patch smiles. Grace is such a mom. “Sure! I’ll be right back.”

The girl goes back through the hall and finds her mom’s bedroom. She knocks and Mom opens the door, already in her work clothes. “What do you know, there’s a little jellybean by my door!” Mom gives a devious smile before picking Patch up and swinging her back and forth, making her legs flail wildly. Patch shrieks laughing.

“S-stop! I just wanna wake you up!” Mom sets her back down and she stumbles a little before regaining her balance. “Everyone else is already awake. Grace made pancakes.”

“Oh, that’s awfully nice of her. She didn’t have to do that.”

“She used all of our special ingredients.”

Mom winces and then schools her face back into a soothing smile. “The kids had a rough night, Eudora. I can take an extra shift for them.”

Patch nods absentmindedly and Mom sends her back to the kitchen with a kiss on the cheek and an “I love you.” She’s hungry, so she snatches up one of the plates and picks up a chocolate chip pancake. She doesn’t bother gathering a fork because she’s just going to wash it later. She has enough dishes to do with the other eight visitors. Patch sits on the couch and takes a bite of the confection, getting melted chocolate on her fingertips.

She looks up to find the siblings all staring at her from their different places scattered around the room, everyone standing awkwardly with their hands folded.

“Wha’?” She swallows. It’s rude to talk with your mouth full. “Aren’t you guys gonna eat something?”

Ben frowns, aghast. “Patch,” he hisses, quiet, “put your plate down! We have to wait until he sits. You’ll get in trouble.”

“Wait for who?”

It’s silent for a minute before Klaus cackles and runs up to the counter to nab some blueberry pancakes. “Oh my god, we worked so hard to leave and we’re still living by his dumb rules! This is stupid.” He lounges back to the couch and sits beside Patch, draping his legs over hers.

Ben rolls his eyes and brings his own plain stack to sit beside Klaus, who quickly puts his head in the boy’s lap. “It’s a natural trauma response.”

“Can we not call it that?” Luther picks a spot on the floor near the mattress.

“What, the truth?” Allison brings herself and Vanya to rest their backs on the television stand.

Mom walks in and thanks Grace profusely before grabbing a serving for herself. She sits cross-legged on the mattress, Grace standing with her hands clasped beside her. Mom greets all of the kids before clearing her throat. “So, your mother and I have developed a pretty rough game plan. Some of the details are sketchy and will probably change on the fly, but you kids are all good at thinking fast, so we’ll be cool.”

“So cuh-cool.”

“Patch told you that I work with the police, right?” The kids all nod. “Well, I called in last night so I could be assigned your case. I’m going to fill out all of our paperwork today and Grace is going to take you out to get nice, new clothes. Tomorrow, I’ll take you all to the station and we can do some interviews. There’s some big stuff after that, but we’ll deal with it later. Does that sound okay?”

Luther nods, taking the leadership role once again.

“I get  _ clothes?” _ Klaus perks up, swinging his legs off of Patch. “Fuck Dad; I’m buyin’ a skirt!”

Mom temples her fingers. “Grace only has control of your father’s credit card for around a few more hours before he figures out that she can even use it at all. This’ll put you at risk for getting sued for stealing, I’m not going to lie, but you kids need clothes. I can’t exactly… You know.”

Diego smiles. “It’s okay. We huh-have  _ way _ more dirt oh-o-on  _ him  _ than that.”

The woman looks like she wants to say something, but elects to stay silent instead. She finishes her pancakes and dusts herself off, putting her dishes in the sink. “I’ve got to go to work now and get started on all that, mkay?” Patch jumps up in order to give her a hug. Mom pushes the girl’s shoulders back and forth in a little faux dance. “You be good! I love you very much.” On her way out, she nudges Grace and turns back to the kids with a wink. “You should ask your mother about our little surprise.”

This, of course, causes an immediate uproar. As the door shuts, the siblings all gather around Grace and pull at her pristine skirt, clamoring for more information.

Grace pats Diego and Vanya on their heads before excusing herself to gather up their dishes from around the floor. Her posture is impeccable as she does so, bending down with a ramrod straight back like a picturesque 50’s housewife. A day doesn’t go by where Patch isn’t astounded by the woman. “A little patience goes a long way! All of you get ready to go and I’ll tell you on the walk. Ms. Patch has so kindly laid out some clothes for you all in the bathroom.”

The kids rush off except for Five, who stays in order to get checked on by Grace. From what Patch can gather, his concussion is healed enough that he can do normal things, but he’s still a bit foggy. His cheek is almost black, but the scratch the end of the cane left has turned into a thin scab. Grace sends him off again.

“Am I going with you to the store?” asks Patch.

“Only if you don’t have any obligations, sweetheart!” Grace starts loading the dishes into the sink and Patch comes up behind, reaching for the sponge. “You’re the only one who’s ever actually been shopping before.”

She frowns. “It’s just like getting groceries. You cook all the time; I’m sure you’ve done that.” She pulls the nearest plate to her into her hands and starts scrubbing it.

“I’ve never been out of the house before last night.” Grace says, nonchalantly, before tutting at Patch. “Dear, you don’t have to do that! I’m perfectly capable of washing the dishes.”

“Me too.” Patch sticks her tongue out and hands the dish to Grace for her to dry, since she wants to help so much. She grabs another plate. “You’ve  _ never _ been out of the house? Not even before you met Mr. Hargreeves?”

Grace wipes the dish at an inhuman speed. “I’m an android, sweetie!”

Patch drops the dish in the water. Quickly she picks it back up, inspecting for cracks in the surface. She’s lucky this time. “Oh my god!” She turns back to Grace. “You’re a  _ robot?” _

She takes the not-broken dish with a self-conscious laugh. “I’m a robot.”

Patch hears Diego come down the hall. “Muh-Mom, Five took my—,”

“Did you know your mom is a robot?” Patch whips around to face him, face broken into a beam. She hops from foot to foot, in the middle of scouring a mixing bowl.  _ “That’s so cool! _ How could you not tell me that?”

Diego blinks. “You… you think my mom is cuh-coo-cool?”

“Uh, duh. How could I not? Have you met Grace? She’s like, the nicest, and also a  _ robot, Diego; your mom is a robot and I’m freaking out.” _

Grace bats at her shoulder and nudges the bowl out of her hands. “Oh, hush, now.”

“I… I-I-I-duh-I…” His cheeks flare a dark red and he spins around, dashing down the hall and back into the bathroom with his siblings. “I’mgonnafi-finishgettingreadynowbye!”

Patch finishes cleaning the last dish as she hears muffled screaming from the bathroom mixed in with teasing laughter. Grace thanks her for her help and makes sure that she’s stern this time with her instructions to go back to her room and get changed. She complies, of course, because her work is done for now. She notices that a lot of her clothes are missing, but she doesn’t mind. There’s enough left to make an outfit for herself, anyway. She pulls on a bright yellow shirt from some ice cream place nearby and a pair of overalls, pulling her hair up quickly.

As she walks out, she notices that all of the siblings (who have since escaped back to the living room) are wearing clothes from all over the house. Some wear her personal clothes, some wear old pajamas of Mom, and some are adorned in Dad’s clothes which they hadn’t touched in years. Patch takes some time in the bathroom as she brushes her teeth in order to acclimate to the reminder.

“Come on, Patch, let’s go!” Allison tugs her by the arm once she’s out. Patch hardly has enough time to slip on some sneakers before Allison has her on the sidewalk in front of the apartment. Once Luther stomps out, she locks the door.

The walk to the mall is fairly short. Patch’s apartment is pretty close to every necessity around town, which is really good for Mom’s job and lack of availability. Five periodically blinks ahead of them in order to scout the way, which Grace scolds him about every time he does it, but he proceeds nonetheless.

They don’t dare split up once they’re there, but they feel safe enough to spread out in the same stores. Patch is usually strung along with Allison and Klaus, who both prefer girlier clothes. Ben joins sometimes, if only to get a good dig in on Klaus before leaving again to probably pick up another neutral-toned hoodie.

She does end up getting individual time with everyone, though.

Klaus pulls her away first, which she isn’t all too surprised about. He takes her to the section of the store with all of the brightly-colored skirts and grins the most genuine smile she’s seen on him. She submits herself to sitting in the dressing room for 30 minutes as he comes out sporadically in order to model his newest choices. He rocks every single look, but even she has to admit that sometimes, he just picks a skirt because it’s butt-ugly and he knows it’ll make her laugh.

Allison picks her up from there, having watched the last two of his runway walks. She drags her to the most vibrantly-colored area of the store, asking for Patch’s opinion on anything and everything. She really seems to enjoy expressing herself freely like this, which makes Patch really happy. At the suggestion that she dye her hair, Allison lightens considerably and nods. By the time Luther grabs her, she’s decided on blonde.

Luther takes her to buy a suit. Of course he would think that’s what clothes are. Patch is always on a mission to push Luther out of his boundaries, so she drags him to look at graphic tees. He’s completely put off and hates the entire experience until he notices a small section of shirts with space puns on them. Patch smirks and lets him look, pushing a jean jacket at him that would go well with the tops.

Ben pulls her away to ask about overalls. He loves hers and compares it to a kind of masculine-style dress. She definitely agrees once he brings it to her attention. The boy goes over the moon about ones with flaps in the front, and she secretly asks Grace to embroider an octopus on the material as they pass her in the search of more full-body clothing.

She heads off with Diego next, who looks overwhelmed with choice. He seems to like black, though, so she takes him around to look at the darker options. With a single criteria in mind, he appears more comfortable. She jokingly offers him a leather jacket, but he immediately falls in love with it and won’t take it off even to let Grace pay. Allison almost has to rumor him to get the tag out. As soon as they're out of the store, Patch notices that he’s slipped the telltale piece of paper into the front pocket.

Five is completely uninterested by the experience, but he seems to be having some trouble picking out clothes. Patch walks beside him, not saying a word, and he doesn’t acknowledge her. She hands him nice sweater vests when she sees them, and once she thinks she gets a smile out of him when she finds a pair of checkered pants. Five ends up fully clothed after one store’s worth of shopping with Patch, and she leaves him alone after that. She does catch a peek of his notebook on the way out, though, and the title has something with her name in it that she can’t make out.

Vanya is last which again, she expects. The girl was too uncomfortable and self-conscious to purchase anything at the previous stores, so she ends up empty-handed. Patch quickly snakes a hand in hers and swings their palms together as they weave with Grace through the stores they’ve already visited, buying things that Vanya had seen but had been too afraid to ask for. It’s all loose button-ups, mostly, and Patch finds something new to compliment about each one.

They get ice cream on the way home. Grace’s card finally gets declined, but she reveals that she’d taken a lot out of the ATM before Reginald had closed the service.

Patch licks her black cherry, feet swinging in a pattern as she hops down the sidewalk. Vanya is back on Luther’s shoulders and Klaus is taking the lead, pointing out road signs dramatically as if any of them were new information. They weren’t, simply because they had been walking the same two blocks in circles for ten minutes.

“Children, Ms. Patch informed you about a surprise this morning, right?” Grace asks, stopping in place.

Five grinds to a halt, blinking back in front of Grace. Klaus turns and runs back, dragging Ben by the hand. “Yes, it’s been killing me!” Five supplies, impatient. “What is it? Are we getting a dog?”

“We  _ just _ got a Patch.” snorts Ben.

“No, it’s not a dog!” Grace laughs. She crouches down, putting her hands on her knees and looks each of her children in the eyes. She looks at Patch, too, and the girl feels warm. “You all know that we need a separate living situation from the Patches, who have been so kind to let us stay with them until this is all settled. For right now, until the case is settled, I can’t offer you a permanent home, but we have plans in place.”

“We’re not leaving Patch.” Allison crosses her arms.

Grace grins, deep and wide. “You won’t have to.” She moves a hand to poke at Patch’s cheek. “There’s a large open apartment in Patch’s complex. I’ll be putting in our deposit tonight and we’ll move in once we’re done with the interviews tomorrow.”

The silence resonates down the block.

A streetlight shatters next to them and Vanya whoops in joy, pounding her fists on Luther’s shoulders. Klaus joins in, spinning Patch around like a dance. The rest of the kids have their own individual celebrations, causing a ruckus down the street. Five suggests they rush home so they can sleep faster and move in faster.

Patch’s ice cream melts on the way home and she doesn’t even notice.

She unlocks the door for them all and hugs Grace goodbye so she can talk things over with the landlord. She leaves the door unlocked so that she can come back in around 30 minutes when she’s all done.

The Hargreeves pull her into the living room after they stuff their new clothes in Patch’s barren room. They’re scattered around the room; every limb wrapping someone else’s. Allison is showing Diego her new hair dye, Luther is chatting with Five about who’s going to room with who, Ben is plaiting Vanya’s hair, and Klaus is interrupting every conversation.

“We can have sleepovers all the time!” chimes in Vanya, a bright smile on her face.

“And we can hang up all the pictures in the halls! And see you whenever we want! And go outside!” Ben squirms in his seat.

“I’m really glad you guys have a chance here.” Patch tries to get the warm feeling in her chest across through her expression. “I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure life is better for you all.” It’s not much, but if she can do it, she will. “I’m gonna find a legal way to punch your dad.”

Klaus bursts out a laugh, hugging Five to his side, who begrudgingly takes it. “Aw, thanks, Patch!” He sniffs back a fake tear. “If we could ever find a way to repay you—,”

The conversation is cut off abruptly by a gunshot. Glass cascades to the floor in a glittering waterfall as the mirror in the corner shatters, leaving a bullet pockmarked in the wooden backing. Each Hargreeves stands to attention; Diego unsheathing his knives and Luther picking up the heavy footstool he was sitting on.

Before any of them can locate the intruders, a wet, gurgling cough sounds from the bed.

Patch clutches at her stomach, mouth gaping open and closed like a fish. Her eyes are wide, irises hardly pinpricks. The girl chokes on an inhale and syrupy blood bubbles out from between her teeth, just like it soaks the hand on her abdomen. She blinks, stunned.

A voice calls out from the doorway. “Goddammit, Hazel; if you’re gonna shoot, don’t miss!”

Patch tries to gurgle out another breath, but the pain is too much. She falls unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY I DID A HIT  
> patch won't die, pinkie promise!


	11. Action, Meet Consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patch needs a hospital, probably.

The Hargreeves watch, horrified, as Patch slumps to the side, staining the mattress red. Diego almost trips on himself sliding across the floor, pulling her torso upright and into his arms. He puts pressure on the hole in her abdomen.

“You took away my brace last night! Action, meet consequence!” Hazel shouts, angrily holstering his gun again and reaching for a briefcase on the ground. The girl in the awful pink bunny mask pulls up her gun and aims for Patch’s prone form, finger held on the trigger.

Before she can shoot, a footstool is slammed into her head and she collapses to the ground, stunned. Luther roars, near animalistic. He stomps towards her, steadfast, ripping a heavy cabinet from the wall. He swings it like a baseball bat in one fell swoop, knocking the woman off of her feet and into the wall. Her head starts to bleed through the mask. It’s not nearly enough.

Ben’s pale, almost white, and his stomach rips itself open, tearing up one of the shirts the Patches had leant him. Usually he screams, but he’s far beyond that now. He feels unhealthy, inhuman control over the tentacles cleaving him in half. He recognizes every twitch, makes them slither down on the ground towards Hazel himself. In his time with Patch, They had gotten to rather like her and gotten used to the rest of his siblings. They keen now, urging him to slaughter and rip and tear and squeeze. Ben tells Them to grab Hazel around the middle and They do. The man struggles, but nobody has ever escaped the Horror. Nobody is ever going to.

The woman gets to her feet, wiping her mask clear of blood and reaching for her gun. Again, she forgoes the siblings attacking her and squints her eyes, aiming straight for Patch’s brain.

A boy appears in front of her before she can register anyone moving, and he has a malicious grin on his face. His mouth is too wide, teeth too white. He looks like the Cheshire Cat and he has murder in his eyes. “People like you,” he hisses, “are the reasons bastards preach of Hell.” The boy socks her in the face and she feels her nose snap. In surprise, she drops her gun and the boy reaches for it. She lifts her leg in order to slam him down to the floor, but she’s pulled backward by the throat as another kid wraps a twisted blanket around it in order to strangle her.

Allison grunts, using every ounce of strength she can in order to choke the woman unconscious. Her breath gurgles, just like Patch’s did. She smiles in sick satisfaction.  _ Karma was always her favorite word. _ The woman struggles, nails scratching up and down Allison’s hands, but she’s been stabbed by her own brother more times than she can count so there’s no way she’s giving a shit now. She drops the slack body to the floor.

Klaus lifts Patch’s ginormous backpack (full of everything she ever needed to take care of them, the girl is a saint) and drags it behind him, stepping up to the restrained Hazel like a batter at the plate. He swings forward, slapping the bag into the man’s face. His disgusting blue beaver mask flies off and rolls to the ground, revealing a man with a big bushy beard and tired eyes. He reaches for the gun with his free hand and Klaus grabs the arm, twists it in just the right angle like Dear Father always taught them to. It snaps like a twig and the man cries out.

It’s quiet for a minute, the Hargreeves puffing out breaths.

The woman rockets back up and elbows Allison in the stomach, making her sputter and fall to the floor, moaning. She socks Five in the already fucked-up head and he goes down like a sack of potatoes. Hazel takes her lead, using his uninjured hand to squeeze the blood flow out of Ben’s tentacle. He cries out, dropping the man. Both assassins scramble for their guns, knowing they only have a matter of time.

Vanya  _ screeches. _

The lights flicker violently, but don’t go out. Everyone covers their ears, the sound is so loud. Each drawer along the wall ricochets open, silverware and glass bowls ripping themselves out with fervor and aiming at the culprits. She sobs and they fly forward, shoving and stabbing and slicing the assassins in various spots.

_ “Leave us alone!” _

The woman and Hazel do not wake up once they hit the floor.

Diego’s hands are sticky and wet as he presses, white-knuckled on their fallen friend’s stomach. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Her eyes don’t open. She’s hardly breathing. “Patch, cuh-c-come on… You said wuh-w-wuh-wuh-we were guh-gonna be ok- _ okay—,” _ his voice cracks, and he wipes the blood from her cheek. It just smears. He whips around to face his siblings.  _ “Five, goddammit, get Mom!” _

Five blinks out immediately, still dazed.

Klaus climbs over, cautious and scared. “Is she gonna...?” He swallows. “Am I gonna see her soon, do you think?”

Ben pulls him into a woozy, swaying hug. His stomach hurts so badly. “Absolutely not. We’re  _ all  _ going to see her soon and she’ll be fine.”

“What if she’s not?” Allison pulls her arms around herself.

Luther growls and crotch-stomps the man. He doesn’t react.

Vanya bawls, head thrown back as her hair tosses around her face in the wind. “I just w-want… to be left  _ alone!  _ Why can’t they leave us alone? I want to be happy! I want to have friends!” She latches onto Allison. “I said they would kill her and  _ they did!” _

Five blinks back in, a calm Mom behind him. She takes one look at Patch and then pulls the landline out of its holster, handing it to Allison. “Honey, please call an ambulance and then the police station. Ask to speak to Officer Jesse Patch.” Allison takes the phone and starts dialing, frantic. Grace slides down next to Diego to examine the situation. “You’re doing a very good job, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”

Diego chokes on a sob.

“The ambulance is on the way. I’m calling Patch’s mom now.” Allison’s voice is shaky.

“Wonderful.” Grace stands back up. “Do any of you know if there was an exit wound?”

“The bullet hit the mirror, Mom.” Five says. “I’ll get it for you. I’m sure we can find some shit on those assholes.”

Grace doesn’t correct his language, that time. Instead, she presses her hands atop Diego’s, putting more weight into it than he could bear to do. Dark red pools out from between their fingers and Patch groans, face going sweaty. This sparks a cough, which sends blood bubbling out of her throat. She stirs, but doesn’t wake up.

Allison hangs up, rubbing at her face with her sleeves. “Ms. Patch w-will be here soon. She said she’ll drive us to the hospital.”

The ambulance sirens show up almost immediately. Patch’s apartment  _ is  _ close to every aspect of the town, after all. Grace instructs Luther to go and open the doors for the paramedics while the rest of the kids work quickly to clean up Vanya’s mess as fast as possible. At some point they’ll have to come out about the Umbrella Academy shenanigans, but they’re too tired to answer questions yet.

Four workers run in, a stretcher in hand. Two stay behind to inspect the corpses of the woman and Hazel, which Luther and Five answer the questions about. They immediately claim self-defense and the workers simply agree and move on, heading out to get more stretchers in order to take the bodies to the hospital and confirm death.

The other two workers find the group of family members and check on Patch’s health. Diego thinks they praise him, but he doesn’t really hear it through the fog in his ears. They ask Mom a lot of questions about Patch, which somehow she knows all of the answers to. It’s another robot thing, probably. Both entrance and exit wounds are declared clean and safe for transport, so they slide Patch onto the stretcher and drag her away. Diego can’t do anything but watch, hands still dripping. He wipes them on the mattress. The mattress is also soaked, so it just makes it worse. He swallows.

“I-I-I… I’m guh-gonna go tuh-t-to thuh-th-the bathr-room.” His stutter is so much worse. Grace nods, he thinks, so he goes.

He would shower, but there’s absolutely no way he’s missing the trip to the hospital. Instead, he scrubs at his hands under the hottest water the sink has and tears at his skin with as much ferocity as he can muster. By the end, his hands are so red with heat and pain that he can’t really tell if there’s any blood left. He decides it’s good enough and walks back out.

Ms. Patch is here now with five more officers from her squad. They’re scouring the residence and Five is pointing at the mirror. Grace is answering questions with the tallest officer and Ms. Patch is at the breakfast bar, face streaked and wet and red. She has a fist shoved in her mouth. Allison is trying to calm her down, he thinks, and Ms. Patch is certainly trying to be okay for the sake of the kids, but it’s not working very well.

“Hi, Muh-Ms. Patch.” says Diego, walking over with his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t want to look at them.

“Well, hell-lo, Diego.” she hiccups. “Thank you for… for your help today.”

“It suh-sucked.”

“Yeah.”

“Really b-bad.”

“I know.”

Diego leans forward and attaches his arms around her back in a fierce hug. “I-I’m sorry it sucks. Things are guh-gonna suck like this fuh-f-for awhile.” He sniffs as she puts her hands on his back. “It’s nuh-not okay. But it’s okay uh-anyway.”

Ms. Patch laughs, wet and sad and wilting. “You’re right, huh.” She pulls away, crouching in front of Allison and Diego and leaving a hand on each of their shoulders. Her face still glistens, but she seems to have swallowed down the sadness. “We’re gonna keep on keepin’ on. Get all of your siblings and then we’ll head to the hospital, alright? I’m sure she misses you all very much already.”

“She misses you, too.” corrects Allison, before bounding out to collect her family.

Diego sticks by Ms. Patch’s side the entire time in the wait for the rest of the Hargreeves. Mom is too busy to offer him support and frankly, he thinks Ms. Patch needs it just as much as he does. They hold hands by the door and Ms. Patch directs all of the officers to different areas in the house. She hands one of them a key to the place.

The rest of the siblings show up, although Klaus is holding Patch’s backpack. Diego smiles at it, because he knows she’d love to have it in the boring hospital room.

“Alright, Hargreeves. We’re gonna go visit my daughter and she’s gonna be fine. I called the hospital already and they said that she’s safe and secure, so we should be able to see her tonight.” She starts heading out the door and towards a big van. The rest of them follow like ducklings. “I rented the van this morning because I knew I would have to drive all of you around soon. Maybe not for the same situation, but soon anyway.” She hops in the driver’s seat.

Grace gets in the passenger seat and the kids arrange themselves in the back. Luther sits in the front with Five, Allison and Vanya go behind them, Ben and Klaus pair up in the next seats, and Diego sits by himself in the back. He takes the backpack from Klaus and puts it in the empty seat and buckles it in before he latches himself.

The drive is short, but it feels really long. He thinks Ms. Patch puts on some music, but it’s noiseless and tuneless and tinny. Nobody talks very much, other than Grace answering some questions from Ms. Patch. Diego keeps a hand on the straps of the backpack and stares out the window.

Nothing changes when they get to the hospital. They get in the same formation in the waiting room and again, Diego saves a seat for Patch. Nobody talks. Grace answers questions. Ms. Patch fills out a clipboard. A nurse stops in periodically to tell them that Patch is okay, but it’s not the same as seeing her.

Klaus perks up suddenly and starts whispering frantically to Ben.

The nurse walks back in a few moments later and tells them that they can come and say hello.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i know i say almost every chapter that i'm sorry for the wait but this time i REALLY am!!!!  
> school has been So McFrickin Difficult this week and for the life of me i could not get this chapter to work! it's not perfect, but it'll work as an interlude until we can get the plot back on track. thank you guys for waiting so kindly after the huge cliffhanger last chapter! all of your comments just made this crappy week really, really good (even if you were yelling at me, which i deserved) so thank you again for that one!!!!


	12. Delegation of Assets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patch is fine. Patch will be fine. The Hargreeves aren't certain how to deal with that.

They let Ms. Patch in first, but the rest of the kids are quickly allowed to follow. Diego beats out Luther for the lead and marches down the sterile white hallway. For the amount that he’s been injured, he’s never been to a hospital before. It’s weird.

Ms. Patch is in a chair beside the bed, pulling Patch’s hair into a ponytail for her. The girl herself is in a hospital gown and laid under thin white blankets, her tan skin almost grey with blood loss and eyes dazed as they try to make sense of the mass of person-shaped figures at her door. She waves lazily and blinks, trying to clear her vision.

“Hi, Hargreeves! Hi-greeves?” she starts with, almost cheerful. “Got shot, sorry; kinda slow. Didja get the shooters out?”

The kids all stand still in the doorway for a few moments, just trying to take in the scene. Patch has enough wires running out of her to run a computer lab and yet she’s smiling dopily at them, starting to make grabby hands for her backpack. Mom ushers them inside.

Allison strides ahead of them, hands shaking. “If I could punch you right now—! Patch, you scared us  _ so much! _ We thought you were going to  _ die! _ You can’t just make jokes about that!”

Patch frowns, finally. “‘M sorry. I usually try not to get shot.”

“Try harder.” Five crosses his arms and moves to stand in the corner.

“Well, people don’t usually try and shoot me in the first place!”

“Oh, god.” Vanya balks, tugging on the edge of her shirt. “It was our fault, wasn’t it? Patch is right, she wouldn’t have any reason to get shot at if we weren’t there; you guys are superheroes—,”

There’s a gasp of air from Patch as she moves to sit up. Ms. Patch attempts to push her back down, but she fights it and keeps crawling. Once she’s sitting, she reaches to grab Vanya’s sleeve. “Hey, no, that’s not what I said at all!” She tugs Vanya to sit on the edge of the bed and the girl complies, however warily. “If ‘m gonna get shot, then ‘m gonna get shot. You guys are part of my life, right? So if I get shot at, then that’s just part of my life, too. The two things don’t have to be related if I don’t want to think about it that way.”

Diego growls. “Your luh-lack of self-pres-res-reservation is as-stuh-stounding. Here wuh-we are, worried about yuh-y-you, and you don’t uh-even give a shit.” He turns and starts to head back out the door, flexing his wrists. “Whatever. Whuh-whatever! If you duh-don’t care then I won’t ei-eh-eithuh-either.”

His siblings are not happy, needless to say.

Luther moves to stand in front of the door, foreboding as he crosses his arms. Ben and Klaus pull him back by the sleeves. Allison tells him what an asshole he is, which is fair. Vanya is saying something or other to Patch. Five looks like he’s about three seconds from strangling him.

“Diego Hargreeves,” hisses Mom from the corner, coming over with a piercing frown in place, “you will apologize right this instant. I know you don’t mean that, young man. Patch here has been nothing but kind to you and you must be kind in return. I understand that you’re hurting, but that is no excuse.”

His lips curl up in a snarl as he stares up at his mother. “Things huh-have to hurt. Patch told me that. They hurt s-s-s-suh-so things can get buh-better. If Patch sees that I’m an asshole, thuh-then she won’t get shot again. Puh-problem solved. You’re welcome.”

Patch sniffs from the bed. Diego pales and turns to face her. Her cheeks are kind of wet and flushed, but she looks sure of herself. “If you want to go, then you can go. You don’t have to keep me around if it makes you feel better. But Diego, you do not get to make decisions for me.” She huffs and fiddles with the IV line in her arm. Vanya holds the hand attached to it and she shifts just slightly enough to pull away. “I get it, really. That doesn’t mean I’ll let you take the blame or pull some self-sacrificing stunt. If you’re gonna leave, then leave for you. I sure as hell won’t let you leave for me because I don’t  _ want  _ you to.”

Ms. Patch purses her lips. “Kids, I really appreciate you being here, but you might need a minute to process what’s going on. It’s an upsetting time for everyone.” She shares a look with Grace, who begins to collect the Hargreeves children and usher them out of the door. “Please, come back as soon as you feel ready. I’m not upset and I know that Eu—Patch isn’t upset either, but it’s important to us that you understand what you’re thinking.” The woman’s chin raises. “And Diego?”

He stops, too upset with some emotion he can’t figure out in order to turn around.

“Figure out what you really want, kiddo.”

Grace pushes them out of the door finally and it shuts behind them. She rests a hand on Diego’s back and holds an emotional Vanya’s hand as she leads them towards the waiting room once again. As she moves to sit down, Klaus tugs at her skirt.

“Mom, can we go outside for a minnie? I know we need to talk and all, but there’s something  _ pretty _ pressing going on right now.”

She cocks her head. “Are you certain it’s an emergency?”

“Deffo.”

Grace sighs and stands back up fully, now leading the children out of the front door and into the back of an alley beside the hospital. It’s fairly clean, so she isn’t concerned about danger. Her scans come up with all possible attack routes and she makes sure to keep an eye on them as Klaus shifts from foot to foot in front of them.

“Well? What is it?” Luther grumbles.

He twists his hands together and glares over their collective shoulders at the corner. “Um, I guess we can rest easy and know that the assassins are most certainly dead.”

Allison blinks. “You… you can see them right now?”

“Oh yeah.”

Five growls and curls his hands into fists. “I wish your powers worked literally any differently at all, Klaus. I’d so appreciate a second chance to beat the everloving shit out of them.”

“What are they doing?” asks Ben instead.

“They’ve just been arguing this whole time. Cha-Cha is blaming Hazel for them dying and she’s trying to figure out how to kill Patch from the afterlife. Hazel just wants to take a nap, I think, and keeps complaining about life insurance. I don’t really care. It’s nothing interesting.”

“Whuh-what’d you call us out here for thuh-th-then? You’re just wuh-wasting our time.”

“Like you didn’t waste ours!” Klaus frowns and then pulls back. “Anyway, I just figure that if they don’t do their job, then someone else is gonna, right? They’ve been mentioning something about a Commission or whatever. Assholes didn’t even notice that I could see them until right about now.” He sticks his tongue out at the corner.

“Smart enough to have a reason to target Patch, but didn’t come with any prior info.” Five picks up a rock and throws it at where Klaus is looking.

“Don’t touch things off of the ground, sweetheart.”

Klaus laughs. “You hit him in the dick!”

“Good.”

“So what are we doing about it?” asks Vanya, twisting her hands together. “I… I don’t want them to figure out how to kill Patch again.”

“We need more information, right?” Klaus stalks over to the corner and swings his arm up and around something that isn’t there. They can tell it’s more for show as it sags and doesn’t touch anything, but he appears to get the effect he wanted from whatever ghost he was reaching for. “I’ve been dealing with the dead for years. Can’t touch ‘em, can’t make ‘em do anything. But the one thing they always want is to protect their former life.” He grins devilishly.

Ben’s brain is clearly running a mile a minute. “Did you dig up some dirt on those guys?” He blinks. “Oh. You brought Patch’s backpack.”

He bows. “Of course I did! Grovel before my feet; I’m truly an evil mastermind.”

Five snorts. “Clever.”

“Duh-does anyone else not get ih-it?” Diego makes a face.

“Yeah, no.” Allison shakes her head and Luther blinks in agreement.

“Dudes brought a briefcase with ‘em. No idea what’s in it, but they won’t stop talking about it. I figure if we do something to whatever’s in there, then we’ve got a pretty damn good bargaining chip.” He tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and adjusts his skirt, nonchalant. “I tucked it into Patch’s backpack when they weren’t looking so they wouldn’t know I had anything in mind. Doesn’t matter now, though. I’m pretty much done waiting.” He winks at the corner and clicks his tongue twice.

“I thought Diego was usually on torture duty! Maybe it shoulda been you all along, huh?” asks Allison, ruffling her brother’s hair. Klaus beams.

“Very good thinking, Klaus! I’m extremely proud of you.” adds Grace.

“It’s probably for the best if we don’t let Patch see it.” Luther straightens his back and pats Klaus on the shoulder just once in congratulations. “We should go get the case and start asking questions immediately.”

Grace dusts off her already pristine skirt. “We absolutely don’t need her opening it and putting herself in danger. However, you children still need to have your talk. I’ll go fetch the briefcase while you all discuss your feelings like I know Patch has been showing you. I trust you can be safe without me here?”

“Yes, Mom.” Ben rolls his eyes.

“Don’t antagonize the assassins too much or they might run away.” chides Grace as she shifts to walk away.

Diego tugs at her arm and holds her in place, looking down at the floor. “Uh, Muh-Mom… Can you… Cuh-can you give this tuh-t-t-to Patch? Pluh-uh-please?” He reaches into the pocket of his new jacket and holds out a crinkled piece of paper. There’s a few drops of blood on it, but otherwise, it’s alright.

Grace softens. “Of course, dear. Do you want me to say anything to her?”

“I cuh-can say it mysuh-self. Later.”

“That sounds perfect, Diego.” she pats him on the shoulder and takes the paper gently in her hands. She addresses the whole of the Hargreeves once again. “Be good while I’m gone. Five, make sure they don’t stray off topic.” And with that, Grace heads back into the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter chapter, but the next one is long!  
> anyway, GUYS! OH MY GOD!!!!!  
> [PLEASE look at this beautiful art that novafirst1 on tumblr made of this fic!!!!!!](https://ellisonjpine.tumblr.com/post/184448124542/papayaromantic-woo-hoo-here-is-a-bunch-of)  
> IT'S GORGEOUS. I'M CRYING IN THE CLUB. THE GODS HAVE SMILED UPON ME AND THE MOBILE DEVICES OF ALL WHO GAZE UPON IT  
> seriously, thank you so so much! all of the support from both them and the rest of the readers here has been amazing and you all make this fic worth writing :)


	13. Piecing Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hazel and Cha-Cha aren't exactly open to interrogation.

“Alright, Diego, sit down.” Allison pushes Diego in the direction towards a cardboard box in the alley. He lets himself be pried down and watches as his siblings find their own spots around the dusty area. Allison and Vanya share the top of a dumpster lid, Luther and Five choose to stand, Klaus sits on the ground because he’s certainly sat in much worse places, and Ben sits in his lap in order to stay clean.

“Are Hazel and Cha-Cha gone?” asks Vanya. “I don’t want to talk about this with them here.”

“You betcha. They ran back into Patch’s room as soon as Mom said she was gonna get the briefcase.” He rests his chin on Ben’s shoulder. “Those guys are such Debbie Downers. I can’t wait for us to torture them so I can ignore ‘em again.”

“Soon.” Ben nudges Klaus and then turns back to Diego’s spot. “So, anyway, Number Two—what the  _ fuck _ was that?” His face pinches in anger.

Diego frowns and grips the handle of a knife tied to his thigh. “If yuh-you’re just gonna bluh-b-bl-blame me, then I’m not—,”

A ripped piece of a blanket shoves against him from the ground. He looks up at Vanya to find her eyes glowing and tongue poking out in concentration. A few glass shards move as well, but the blanket adjusts itself foremost. It’s the most control they’ve ever seen out of her. She bites her lip proudly and then lets the blanket slump back to the floor.  _ It was an attempt at comfort from a distance, _ he realizes. “It’s alright, Diego. Patch’s mom understood you so we can, too. You just have to be honest, okay?” She shifts, making eye contact with Diego. “Why did you yell at Patch?”

Nobody else seems to have seen her blanket trick. He blinks.  _ That was just for him. _ Fuck, now he can’t deflect.

“Why didn’t you?” is what he chooses to say after a minute. “I had tuh-t-to… I had to huh-hold her blood inside her stuh-st-stomach. It was supposed to b-be going in her veins and instead it just… it was uh-on my hands ah-and in the mattress and soaking my juh-jack-ckeh-cket. She was  _ dying _ and I felt  _ uh-all of it.” _ He shudders and scratches at his fingers, still feeling a ghost of the warm sensation the blood had left. “We kill a luh-lot of people. B-b-buh-but-but we’ve never had to keep one al-alive before. It’s never buh-been so important bef-fore.”

Allison hums sadly. “I almost cried just calling the police.”

“Right?” He faces up and looks at her. “We go through all uh-of that and Patch just ih-i-isn’t eh-even mad! She's not upset or sad o-o-or angry. She just acts lie-lie-like everything is fine; like she wasn’t ju-just dying on the floor! Like everything hadn’t uh-aluh-almost ended!” Diego wipes at his face with a sleeve and glares angrily at the wall where the assassins used to be. “Patch is the wuh-one nice person we’ve ev-ever met. If she dies, wuh-w-we have to go back to Dad and Vanya’s puh-powers go away and we won’t b-b-buh-be able to talk to each oth-ther ever again. We almost lost  _ everything. _ We almuh-almost lost  _ her.” _ His throat aches so he swallows. It doesn’t help. “And she didn’t care.”

He looks up to find arms wrapped around his shoulders. Diego might have called it a hug if he didn’t see that it was Luther doing it. Even so, he doesn’t seem to be aggressive or condescending. He’s just there. “She cares, Diego.”

“She almost died!” exclaims Klaus, more subdued than usual. “Of course she cares. But Patch takes care of us; that’s what she does. Obviously she wasn’t gonna cry about it if that was gonna make us flip our collective shits. And here we are anyway, flipping ‘em left and right like pancakes.”

“We can work on helping her process this stuff, if you want.” Ben provides. He doesn’t look mad anymore.

“That’s nuh-not even it!” Diego huffs and pushes his hands down against the box. Luther moves away, letting him have his space back. “She shouldn’t have t-t-t-to worry abuh-about us when she’s literally bleeding uh-out. I’ve never been fruh-frin-friends with someone and I just keep fuh-feeling like we’re doing it wrong. We g-g-g-got her shot and now we pro’lly made it so sh-sh-she can’t even tell us that she’s huh-hurting.”

Allison frowns and kicks her feet against the dumpster. “I get what you’re saying, Diego, but we’re doing the best we can. Like you said, we’ve never had a friend before. She’s dealing with her own problems and all we’ve been trying to do is to be there for her.”

“Are you so upset about this because you like her?” Five cocks his head.

“No!” Diego fumes. “I like huh-her, but that doesn’t eve-ev-even come close to tuh-touching this. She’s my friend. She’s o-our family at this puh-pon-point.” He calms down, accepting the anger as fruitless. “She’s the o-only one of uh-u-us that isn’t meant to b-be in danger and she w-was anyway. Then she doesn’t tr-trust-trust us enough to talk about it. We fucked up ah-uh-uhn-and she doesn’t des-serve a family like that.”

“We’re a fucked up family, but we try, you know?” shrugs Klaus. “Right before we met Patch, I zoomed right past weed and into coke. Luther found out and held my face under the sink faucet for five minutes straight until he was sure all of the shit was gone. It sucked, yeah, but I haven’t done it since.” Luther looks uncomfortable, which is certainly more remorse than they would have gotten out of him a few months ago. “The other day, Allison was crying because she couldn’t sleep without nightmares, so Five punched her so hard she passed out.” He wraps his arms around Ben like a seatbelt. “We suck at being a family. We’re, like, the absolute worst at it. But nobody out there is trying harder to be a family than us.”

“That counts for something.” Ben makes a complicated face up at Diego who takes a deep breath.

“Is it en-enough?”

Five blinks a flash of blue in the darkness and reappears next to Diego, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s more than nothing. That’s always enough, Diego.”

Diego reaches around and tugs Five into a sideways hug, burying his face into the boy’s button-up. Five, for once, doesn’t seem to mind. “Suh-sorry for make-making trouble.”

“At least we talked about it.” Allison smiles softly and jumps up off of the dumpster to shake out her legs. “We can go get Grace if you’re good now.  _ Are _ you good now?”

“Yeah.” He pulls back and wipes at his face again. Five blinks out as soon as the contact stops and comes back into view quickly, walking back into the alley with Mom behind him. She carries the briefcase loftily in her gloved hands.

“Is Patch okay?” Ben perks up and clambers off of Klaus, knowing that Hazel and Cha-Cha are due to show up again soon.

“She’s perfectly fine, darling. Just talking with her mom.” She ruffles Ben’s hair. “Thankfully, she hadn’t opened her backpack yet. The briefcase is nice and secure!” Grace pats the case proudly before handing it to Klaus. “Be careful with it, honey. My scanners aren’t working on it. There could be something dangerous inside.”

Klaus rolls his eyes and takes the case happily. “It’s a briefcase, Mom. It’s probably just mission papers.” He turns back to the corner. “Hey, bitches, we’ve got your briefcase!”

“They’re back?” Vanya scrambles off of the dumpster and away from the corner, which she had been sitting unnervingly close to.

“And bitchier than ever.” He pulls the briefcase quickly behind his back. “No! You can’t have it! You’re dead.” He sticks his tongue out.

Ben takes the case from him and holds it tightly to his chest. “I hate that I have to say this, but you need to negotiate, Klaus. Figure out what they want in return for information about themselves and whatever the Commission is.”

“They just want us to bury it. That’s no fun at all! I wanna play with it.” He makes grabby hands for Ben, but he shifts away and holds the case tighter. Klaus makes a face. “Fine. Does someone wanna ask a question? I’ll translate to the best of my ghostly abilities.”

Five steps forward and glares at the corner. He feels kind of stupid, but whatever. “What are your real names? What is the Commission and why does it want Patch dead?”

Klaus snorts as he listens. “Rough stuff, buddies.” After a bit, he turns back to his family. “Their names are Shithead and Fucknuts—,”

“Klaus.”

He cackles. “Okay! Um, their names are actually Hazel and Cha-Cha. Wouldn’t give more deets, but by the way Hazel grumbled, I imagine it’s an initiation ritual of some sort to change your name.” A pause. “Confirmed; alright! And anyway, they won’t budge on the Commission stuff. Phase one of torture, mayhaps?”

“Or we can just, maybe, you know, ask again?” Vanya’s brows furrow.

“Whuh-when does that ever wor-work?”

“Fair point.” Ben uses one hand to pull up his shirt and the other to hold the case against his stomach. “I’m sure they saw Them while we were fighting, right?”

“Oh boy, Hazel certainly did.” Klaus beams and slides up beside Ben, gesturing to the case like a woman on a gameshow. “One fact about the Commission, please, or my dear brother here will bust a slimy hole straight through your business!”

“God, Klaus, They’re not slimy! I told you that!”

“They look pretty slimy.”

“They’re just sleek; I don’t make mucus and it’s so rude for you to—!”

“Boys!” Grace chides and pats them both on the cheeks from over their shoulders. “Please stay on topic. Klaus, would you pay attention to the assassins here, dear?”

“Oh, right!” Klaus turns back towards the corner. “So, what’ll it be? Do you want your sweet little bag penetrated—”

“Please don’t say it like that.”

“—Or would you prefer to give us a fact about who puts the dumb names on your paychecks?” Whatever reply Klaus gets makes him laugh again. He then makes a face and runs his tongue along the inside of his lower lip, looking more confused than ever.

“What? What did they say?” Allison inches closer.

He shakes his head. “Some timey-related bullshit. Ben, if you’d please?”

Five blinks forward and snatches the briefcase away from Ben, glaring imploringly at Klaus. “Klaus, what did they say?”

“That the Commision has something to do with protecting the sanctity of time and  _ oy, stupid kid, could you just put that case in the ground already and stop being a pain in our collective ass.” _ He repeats in a mockingly shrill voice. “I told you, straight up bullshit.”

Five’s grip tightens. “You’re talking about time travel.”

“Not me. Bitchface and Sasquatch, however, are a different story.”

“Do you know how  _ long _ I’ve been working on the logistics for using my power to time travel? Klaus, if they have information on it, we need to know.” He steps forward, hands on the latch to the briefcase. “Hazel and Cha-Cha came after Patch. Patch is close to us. If they’re protecting the timeline, then she did something weird to it.”

“She’s friends with us.” Ben proposes. “They didn’t shoot her before we moved out to live with her. Does our friendship mess up, like, all of time?”

Klaus puffs out his cheeks. “By the looks of things, I don’t think they know. You know, for time assassins, your bosses really fucking hate giving you any useful information whatsoever. It makes you so hard to torture!”

“That’s probably the point.”

“It’s called ‘sardonicism,’ Five.”

Vanya looks curiously at the briefcase. “But they do know something, because otherwise they couldn’t do their jobs. They know who Patch is, for one. And where she lives. But they don’t know about us.”

“They know about time travel.” adds Allison. “They know about this briefcase. They know how to get to the Commission.”

That gives Five pause. He takes a moment to mull her statement over before handing the case to Diego. “Hazel and Cha-Cha, where can we find the Commission?”

Klaus stares eagerly at the corner. He chews languidly on the inside of his cheek, making it clear that the assassins are talking in circles. The thing is, Klaus is very talented at interrogations. He knows from personal experience when a person has reached the end of their rope and he knows how to look for the differences in a person willing to say anything to get the torture to stop vs. someone faking giving information to ease their suffering. He can tell when someone is never going to break. All of this goes to say that even though Klaus often appears to have little patience in his interrogations, he knows exactly what he’s doing. So when he shakes his head at Five thirty seconds later, Five trusts him.

“Stab it.”

Diego unsheaths a knife faster than a bullet and whips it straight through the center of the briefcase.

Klaus shudders and they can imagine the two assassins’ ghostly forms running straight through him. He winces at the shrill sound of their yelling. “We asked you a question, numbnuts.”

Ben kicks the briefcase slightly on the ground. The knife is still punctured in the middle and it sends out sparks periodically. “This thing is full of electronics. If we haven’t broken them, then they’re probably good sources of information. Hazel and Cha-Cha are obviously sticks in the mud, so we might as well snoop, right? I feel like we’ve earned it at this point.”

Allison pokes a stick at it. “Is that safe? We’ve avoided opening it so far.”

“Well, these guys  _ really  _ don’t want me to open it, so I  _ really _ want to.” Klaus crouches down beside it and feels the textured material. He looks back at Luther. “Oh, Big Brother, pretty please? I’ve been such a good boy this year and all I need in my life is to open this tiny box. It’s so small, you see, and I love it so.”

“He’s been dying to open it since he first saw it.” Ben rolls his eyes.

“I’m not stopping him.”

Klaus clicks open the latches.

Klaus is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the interrogation is kind of short because they don't know anything, but there'll be more in a later chapter!  
> i accidentally plotted like... way too much and i'm just realizing that now as i have to work on actually writing everything. this was gonna be 15k at most!!!!!!! oops!  
> anyways, feel free to request things in the comments! there's a lot of plot, sure, but that's just a skeleton. i can do whatever i want in the meantime and i have to intersperse plot-heavy things with some lighter and more fun ones! also, i definitely need suggestions for **(SLIGHT SPOILER)** tiny klaus and dave! they're the entire next chapter and i have very few ideas, so whatever you want, i can write :)


	14. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two months as told in five minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: blatant homophobia and "queer" used as a slur!  
> i'm a lesbian, but the struggle of gay men is different to my own. if anything is offensive, please let me know! i'll change it immediately.

There’s a flash of white and then it’s quiet again. His siblings are gone and there’s light coming softly from something that isn’t a streetlamp. He blinks. It’s a window.

It dawns quickly on him as soon as he sees the green checkered wallpaper and the extremely small and thick television.  _ “Oh shit.” _

He hears a boyish scream from beside him. Klaus quickly scrambles up and clutches the briefcase to his chest so no Commission agent could try to take it. Standing in the doorway is one of the cutest boys Klaus has ever seen. He has clear, green eyes and coiffed curly blonde hair. He’s wearing simple brown slacks and a nice green polo. Klaus swallows as the boy grabs a flashlight from the table beside him and steps forward. “Who are you? Why are you in my house?” His voice is deep. It sends shivers down his spine.

Klaus sticks the briefcase between his legs the best he can with his skirt and raises his hands in the air slowly. “Klaus Hargreeves. I don’t know why I’m in your house—well, I guess I do—but I don’t necessarily want to be here. Can we talk this over? My friend’s in the hospital right now and I don’t want to join her with a flashlight through my brain.”

The boy considers this for a moment and then puts the flashlight in his back pocket. “You’re wearing a skirt.” he says, dumbly.

“Well, of course! It makes my butt look good, don’t you—…” he cuts himself off. “What year is this, blondie?”

Blondie blinks. “1953?”

Klaus winces. “Fuck.” He slumps down onto the couch behind him. “Before we have this talk, can you like, get me some pants or something? I don’t want your folks coming home and freaking out.”

“If you stop saying bad words.” he frowns and then pries Klaus off of the couch by his hands. Klaus’s face flushes. “Mama would have a conniption if she were home right now. My room’s just up the stairs. Once you’re dressed, you’re telling me everything.”

“That I can’t do, but I can certainly try. You won’t believe me.”

“I’ve read a lot of sci-fi novels, Klaus. I know it’s stupid to not believe someone that materializes in the middle of your house.” Dave rolls his eyes and starts walking up the stairs. The house is quaint. It’s bigger than Patch’s apartment, but that’s mostly because of the two stories. Bing Crosby’s voice floats through the halls and Klaus sways slightly along with it. “Oh!” Dave turns around on the stairs and holds out a hand. “I’m Dave Katz. Sorry, that was rude of me.”

Klaus blinks and then shakes the hand offered to him. “You’re chill, pal! I did kind of intrude on your house and all.”

“Still not an excuse to be a bad host.” Dave snorts and turns back to the stairs. They take a right and Klaus is led into a room with pale green walls. There’s four small bookshelves and a bed with plaid covers. Dave leans down next to the wooden wardrobe and pulls out a pair of black slacks. He hands them to Klaus and then turns around so he can change. Klaus quickly strips off the skirt and starts replacing it with the pants.

“So are you a time-traveler?” asks Dave, fiddling with his thumbs. “You just showed up and asked what year it is.”

“You betcha!” Klaus buttons up the pants and then turns Dave back around. Dave shoves a ratty t-shirt at him, too, and Klaus blinks down at his skin-tight tank top. He quickly slips on the shirt. “You know, with how much I’ve heard from Five about time travel, I thought that this would go so much worse.”

“I’ve read a ton of books about this. No one ever uses the time travel excuse unless they’re a real time traveler because they assume that it would go just as badly. I totally dig that time travel is real, though! Should we, like call scientists?” Dave is beaming and looks genuinely excited.  _ Oh god, he’s a nerd. _ Klaus hasn’t met enough boys to know if he has a type, but he knows for certain that Dave is it.

“As much as I love scientists and all, they’d probably rip me open or something. Let’s keep this on the down low.”

Dave’s pretty face pinches in confusion. “The what?” he pauses, and looks to be considering. “Oh, and who’s Five? What year are you from?”

“Oh, right! I’m from 2001, so we have different slang. And Five is my brother.”

“Jeez, that’s nifty!” Klaus coughs back a laugh. A dork. He’s dealing with the biggest dork in the world. “Does everyone have a weird name in the 2000’s?”

“Nah, Five is a family name. My name is weird ‘cause I’m German.”

Dave makes a face.

“Oh, is World War II going on?”

“Ended when I was a baby. But I’m Jewish, so tensions have just been weird. Vietnam started last year, though. That’s where my pops is.” Dave puffs out his chest, proud. “If you’re German, how do you know English?”

“I was born in Germany in a freak accident and I was bought and brought over here by my dad. But we’re running away right now, so I guess he’s not my dad. It’s weird. It’s a weird thing.” Klaus shrugs and then groans, flipping moods on a hat. “I’m totally the worst person to time travel! I’m, like, a weird case in the world even in 2001. I can’t introduce you to all of the cool things about the future ‘cause I don’t leave the house and it’s completely coincidental that I have superpowers, so it’s just gonna end up looking like everyone in the future has powers. It’s just me and my siblings, promise.”

Dave blinks. “You have powers?”

“I see ghosts.”

“Golly!” Dave sits on the bed. “Well, I’m glad we’re being honest. It’s a bit much, though.”

“I’ve been told I’m too much all too often.”

Dave gestures next to him. Klaus sits and lays back, arms crossed under his head. “Let’s not have you introduce me to the future, then. I can just show you around the past and that can be the purpose of your trip. Is that okay?”

Klaus makes a face. “You want me to stay?”

“Uh, let you go and miss hanging out with a  _ real superpowered time traveler? _ Yeah, there’s no way that’s happening.”

Klaus snorts. “That does mean we have to tell your mom about it, though.”

“My mom’s cool. It’ll be fine.”

 

* * *

 

It is, in fact, fine. Mrs. Katz believes him after a bit of questioning (“Do we win this war?” “I think so, yeah.” “Does my husband survive?” “Sorry, no idea. We didn’t cover any of the dead in class.” “That’s alright.”) and offers him a place to stay in their house until he can figure out a way to get home. Klaus has a suspicion on how he could, but Dave makes him curious enough to not mention it.

So Klaus stays.

 

* * *

 

The Katzes are really nice. It doesn’t take the place of missing his family, necessarily, but it’s still sweet to wake up to eggs and bacon every morning from sleeping on the couch and find Dave at the kitchen table, reading science fiction novels. Mrs. Katz dishes them both up healthy servings, kisses Dave on the head, and goes out to work at the factory. The boys both dig in and it’s delicious, just as always. A bit too much salt, which is a mistake Mom would never make, but it still feels homely.

“You know, I’ve been here for three days now and you haven’t left the house. Don’t normal kids have, like, school or something? Go hang out at the soda fountain and play with the jukebox?”

“You got here a few days after summer started. There isn’t much to do around here, I guess.”

“Not hang out with friends, or…?”

Dave frowns and sets down his fork, resting his head on his hand dejectedly. “I, um… a lot of the kids don’t hang around me. They keep saying that I’m one of the queers. I keep tellin’ ‘em that I’m not, but it doesn’t seem to matter to them. It’s more fun, I guess, to avoid me for being something that totally isn’t true.”

Klaus shovels a bite of eggs in his mouth. “It’s even  _ more  _ fun to actually be ‘one of the queers.’”

Immediately, Dave perks up. “Are you saying… are you…?”

“Gay? Super. Pan if we’re being specific, but this is the 50’s so for simplicity’s sake, let’s just say that I’d definitely kiss a boy.”

It seems to take Dave a minute to catch up. “Is it, uh, common in 2001 to be a, um, friend of Dorothy?”

Klaus snorts and turns to look at Dave. “You can just say ‘gay,’ dude, it’s fine. But I guess not really. It’s getting better. It doesn’t count as mental illness anymore and you’re allowed to kiss people of the same gender on TV. I saw it on a commercial, once, when I was stopping a home invasion, and it made my little gay heart jump for joy.”

“Gays can kiss on TV?”

“I know, right? We don’t have a TV, but if we did, I’m sure I would see a lot of it.”

Dave whistles. “Eisenhower just made a law that you can fire gays from the government just for being queer. I thought it was only gonna get worse from here, I guess.”

“Well, there’s the AIDS epidemic and gay people die by the thousands, but yeah, other than that it’s not awful.” Klaus takes a sip of orange juice. “You sound like you have a vested interest, huh, buddy boy?”

Dave’s cheeks flush and he picks up his fork in order to quickly shove eggs into his mouth.

The time traveler laughs and gets up to put his plate in the sink. He ruffles Dave’s curly hair on the way over, just because it’s, like, ridiculously soft. “The future’s a long way away. You’ve got time to figure yourself out. Just don’t block off roads like that, because they’re really super fun and they make my dad very,  _ very _ mad.”

After a minute, Dave joins him at the sink and puts his plate down besides Klaus’s. Their hands brush. “Do you wanna play cards?”

“You must be pullin’ my chain if you think I don’t wanna play cards.”

 

* * *

 

A month or so into his stay, Dave drags Klaus off of the couch he uses as a bed and tells the time-travelling boy to follow him. Klaus agrees sleepily and steps out, barefoot, into Dave’s yard. Dave turns on the flashlight beam and uses it to illuminate a path through a thick line of trees and into an abandoned overgrowth. Inside resides a ginormous tree with a few rickety beams attached to it. He holds the light in his mouth as he climbs and Klaus follows. Once they reach what looks to be an opening, Dave steps inside and then crawls along the floor of the treehouse, staring out of the spot a plank should be but isn’t.

Klaus scoots in beside him. Out of the hole the plank makes, he can see the sky. The stars are bright and obvious and they appear to move ever so slightly. He’d never seen the stars before when he lived in his time, but he knows for certain they wouldn’t have been nearly as clear as they are in this moment. It’s beautiful.

“I’m building this treehouse with my pops. Mama keeps saying that he’s coming back, but I don’t think so.”

“Oh.” Klaus turns back to Dave. Dave doesn’t look all too sad, just grim and accepting. The stars glint off of his eyes and the curve of his nose. “Well, you don’t know that. A lot of people die in a lot of ways and don’t die in a lot of others. It’s all very contradictory. The dead groan about it all the time. It’s one of their favorite complaints.”

“It’s okay if he does, Klaus.” Dave rests his head on his arms and tilts, letting the breeze wash over his face. “My pops spent his whole life wishing he did more stuff with grandpa, who died in World War II. It kept him from being truly happy, I think. I don’t want to be like that. I think any time with my pops was enough.”

Klaus is so unequipped for this. “Any reason you’re bringing this up?”

“Can’t tell Mama.” Dave pauses and then adds, “And I want you to know that I really am grateful for every second I spend with you, even if you have to go back someday.”

He swallows.  _ Fuck, _ he’s always so blindsided when people actually care about him. “You really think that?”

Dave rolls his eyes. “Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t. You don’t have to say it back, though. It’s okay.”

“No, David Katz, I want to!” He shoves Dave’s shoulder. He clears his throat and makes his voice wax faux-poetic. “Your existence makes me fall in love with living, old man!”

Dave cackles and sits up, going criss-cross applesauce. He copies Klaus’s tone. “Well, Klaus Hargreeves, your personality shines brighter than the sun itself.”

“I take offence to that.”

“It’s a compliment! This is a compliment battle!”

“If you say so.” Klaus sticks his tongue out. “If the dead were as pretty as you, I would never close my eyes.”

Dave snorts. “That was a weird one, Klaus.”

“I solemnly swear that I only ever speak the truth!”

Dave makes a face. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Uh, well, duh. You’d have to be blind not to. The muscles, the hair, the eyes? You’re cute in a way that I know you could crush my esophagus in your hand and I would thank you.”

“You’re just not supposed to tell boys that they’re pretty, when I’m from.”

“A tragic shame! I’ve never met someone who deserved to hear it more’n you.”

Dave’s cheeks burn and he looks down at the wood below him, pulling his pajama sleeve up in front of his face. Klaus laughs.

They sit in silence for awhile. Klaus has never liked silence, but it’s nice when he’s with Dave. It’s like he can tell what the boy is thinking while they’re sitting there, just because his face changes with his thoughts. It’s obvious that he spends a lot of time trying to figure Klaus out, but it’s never invasive. It’s friendly; it’s Dave’s way of caring. The gentle breeze helps as well and cools Klaus’s fervent mind. There’s only a few corpses on the floor below and he can hardly hear them from the high-up treehouse. There’s less dead in the 50’s, anyway.

Eventually Klaus notices Dave’s eyes drooping, so he sits up and claps the boy on the back. “C’mon, Prettyboy, let’s get you back to bed.”

Dave groans sleepily. “Don’ wanna.”

Klaus rolls his eyes. “Well it’s your only option, so let’s go.” He kicks Dave’s side softly. “Up and at ‘em, let’s not give your mom a fit in the morning.”

Dave slowly gets up, limbs weighed down like they’re tied to sacks of potatoes. Klaus knows for a fact that he’s not really that tired, but he’s just being stubborn. He starts making his way down the tree and Klaus follows. They land safely and start back towards the house, but Dave stops him before they cross the treeline.

“You’re pretty, too. I just wanted to say.”

Klaus chokes on a breath and coughs into the bend of his arm. It takes a few moments, but eventually he un-startles himself enough to speak again. “Th-thanks. I try.”

“No, you don’t. You do whatever you want to, even if it’s unconventional. But I think that’s what makes you pretty. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” Dave adjusts the top of Klaus’s t-shirt so it’s not hanging off of his bony shoulder anymore. He always does stupid touchy-feely things like that, like it doesn’t murder Klaus’s soul every time. “Night, Klaus.”

Dave leaves Klaus there behind the treeline as he goes back home and into bed.

Klaus runs back up the treehouse, screams out of the hole they were staring from, and scrambles back to the couch to sleep once again.

 

* * *

 

On month two, a few weeks before school should be starting up again, Dave takes Klaus to a real soda fountain.

They park themselves at the bar and Dave’s quarters clink down on the countertop as he orders two milkshakes. Dave gets strawberry and Klaus gets chocolate. Klaus watches in fascination as the lady behind the counter fills the blender with ice cream and malt powder. He’s only had ice cream the one time with Patch (which, to be fair, did not end well), so it’s just incredible to him that some people have access to it all the time. Ice cream is seriously  _ so good _ and the world just takes it for granted.

He turns to Dave in order to point out the fact that the lady is cutting up  _ real, actual strawberries _ for his shake, but he finds Dave already staring at him. The boy seems lost in thought, head resting languidly on his arm as he watches Klaus. There’s a soft smile on his face and his light freckles are more pronounced than ever. His heavy eyelashes blink and Klaus swallows.

“Yeah?” asks Dave, lifting his face up. He doesn’t even seem to notice what he was doing.

“They’re, um, they’re using real st… real strawberries. In your shake.” Holy  _ shit, _ he sounds worse than Diego. If only his heart would stop pounding in his ears, maybe he could think clearly enough to not point out the obvious like a dumbass.

Dave doesn’t mention it. “Of course! They do that here. It’s real nifty! All of it’s fresh from the farm down the road. I work there sometimes when Pop’s check doesn’t come in on time and they always send me home with a bushel of whatever I picked that day.”

“Woah! You can just pick fruit?”

“Yeah? Is all of your fruit, like, fake in the future?”

Klaus puffs his cheeks out. “No. Five and Ben are really uppity about sustainable sourcing or whatever. I just never really thought about where we get it from, I guess. You know my dad and that whole situation.”

Dave growls. “That seems to be an excuse for a lot of things. Oh boy, if I ever get to go to the future with you, I’m gonna slug your dad so hard he won’t be able to even read his own watch.”

“You do that, Prettyboy.” Klaus huffs a laugh and leaves a hand over Dave’s opposite shoulder as the lady dishes their milkshakes in front of them. With a whistle, Klaus thanks her profusely and then goes in for a sip. The mixture is thick and can barely work its way up the straw, but as soon as it hits his tongue, he’s in heaven. It’s rich and creamy and the chocolate adds a nice snap to it that he could treasure forever. Klaus moans in joy, which he only does now because he knows it pisses Allison off. He misses her.

Dave’s watching him again, mindlessly sucking at his own shake. “That good, huh?”

“Why did no one ever tell me that you could make ice cream a drink? This is novel. This is the next big thing. This could create world peace. If I had tried milkshakes before, I never would have even thought about starting on alcohol.”

As he usually does when Klaus mentions his multiple past addictions (which he’s over now due to help from his family and Patch, thank you very much), Dave’s face goes stormy and sad. He knows it’s not about him and more about his whole situation and his shitty father, but Klaus still winces a bit in guilt. Jokes about his problems never go over well, but he keeps doing them anyway. Internally, he punches himself.

Dave seems to notice, so he cheers himself back up and changes the topic. “Hey, I’ve never had their chocolate one before. Mind if I take a sip?”

“Only if I get some of yours! This is a barter system, Prettyboy; nobody lives for free in America.” Dave snorts and trades glasses with Klaus.  _ It’s like a fucking movie, _ he thinks.  _ Is this an indirect kiss? Is this flirting? _

His mind quickly shuts up as he actually gets some of the shake in his mouth. It’s as sweet as the chocolate one, but the slight sourness of the strawberries compliment those flavors in such a different way. Even after he swallows, the tanginess remains. It’s almost comforting in the way it reminds him that the shake is still there, even if he isn’t drinking it. It reminds him a lot of Dave.

Dave, who grunts from beside him and rubs the back of his head. There are two shadows looming over them. Klaus turns around to find two boys their age, one with their hand raised behind Dave’s head as if coming off from a slap. Klaus immediately jumps to his feet and hisses, shifting his stance so that he can fight properly.

“Katz, calm down your little attack dog here. I don’t feel like beating you guys up tonight.” The bigger one crosses his arms and Dave lays a hand on Klaus’s shoulder. He’s not telling him to stop, necessarily, but just letting him know that whatever Klaus does, Dave will follow. Klaus shrinks back down, but doesn’t sit. “I just felt like telling you what we were up to.”

The air freezes cold as Dave’s face draws together in wary confusion. “What did you do, Thompson?”

His goon laughs as Thompson dangles some sort of box in front of Dave’s nose. “We don’t appreciate dirty queers in our town, Katz. Not you or your disgusting boyfriend. You’ve been getting a bit too comfortable, see, going out like this. Thought we’d send a message.” Thompson drops the box into Dave’s hands and heads for the door.

“At least my breath doesn’t make the berries rot in my  _ boyfriend’s _ milkshake!”

“Klaus, leave them alone. They just suck.” Dave decidedly doesn’t mention how Klaus had called them “boyfriends.”

Thompson looks like he’s about to turn back around and sock his lights out, but decides against it and slams the door behind him with a little jingle of the bell.

Klaus whistles. “Christ on a cracker, that was a close one, huh, Dave!” At the lack of response, Klaus looks to Dave. Dave is staring at the box in his hands, eyes wide and mouth agape. “What? What is it?”

Klaus inches closer and touches the side of his cheek with Dave’s in order to look at the box. It’s a box of matches—empty, as far as the boys can tell. Dave pulls a hand away from it and it comes away wet and glistening. He rubs his fingers together. Klaus can smell it clear as day.

“Kerosene.” He blinks and backs away. “Why would they give you matches? Dave, what…?”

“They always said they would, but they never… My  _ house.” _ Dave’s voice is fucking  _ shredded. _ He sounds so upset, but he’s already realized the grim implications. The words tear themselves out of somewhere deep inside of him and he clamps a hand over his mouth to keep the rest of his insides in. Klaus takes a second, but then his fists clench and he lets out an animalistic growl.

“Goddammit, was your mom home?”

Dave doesn’t even look upset by his language. He just nods weakly.

Klaus hits the box of matches out of Dave’s hand and grabs it instead. He leads the boy out of the shop and as soon as the fresh air hits his face, Dave starts running in a familiar path. Dave is fast, but Klaus is too. He follows wordlessly in the boy’s footsteps as they try and reach the house in time to see the damage.

There’s not even warmth when they get there. It’s like the fire sucked every last ounce of heat from the air and just left cold in its wake. There’s no burning, there’s no smolders, there’s no gas. It’s all just… gone. Everything is black and ashen on the floor. Everything except for a little sparking briefcase in the middle of the wreckage.

Dave stumbles into Klaus, awe-struck. “Klaus, I… I  _ lived _ here. It’s gone. It’s gone. They burnt it all away.”

Klaus pulls him into a full-bodied hug and holds him so tightly that Dave can’t see a thing. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s fine. We’ll work something out, okay? It sucks, but you’re alright, and that matters.”

“My… my mom. Klaus, my mom, where is she? She could have gone to the police, right? She’s not in there, she would have gotten out. She would have. Klaus, Klaus, we have to look.” Dave pulls away.

He has to struggle to do so as Klaus keeps an iron grip on Dave’s shoulders. He’s staring at something over his side. “Dave, I… there’s no point looking. You’d just get hurt. I’m so sorry. God, I’m so sorry, Dave.”

Dave looks at where Klaus’s attention is directed, and he darts to his mother. Her face is ashen and bloody and she looks half-dead, but Dave makes contact. Klaus blinks. She isn’t dead.  _ Thank god, she isn’t dead. _

“Mama!” Dave clutches her in a hug and Mrs. Katz hugs back just as fiercely. “Mama, oh gosh, are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

“No, I’m alright, pumpkin. Just banged my head on the way out.” Mrs. Katz pulls away slightly but keeps her hands on Dave. She gestures for Klaus to move forward and join their little circle. He does so and shoots a weak smile at Mrs. Katz, thankful that she’s fine. She fluffs his hair and pushes him beside Dave, putting a hand on both of their opposite sides. “Klaus, do you know how to get back to the future?”

Klaus nods. “I think so.”

"You could have left this entire time?" Dave sniffs.

"Probably. But I-I didn't want to." Klaus looks away at the ground. "I'm sorry, Dave."

He feels a hand on his chin as Dave lifts his face up towards him. "Thank God you stayed."

Mrs. Katz gives them a moment before she clears her throat to bring attention back to her. “David, does Klaus make you happy?”

Dave sputters, flinching his hands back from Klaus. “M-Mama, I swear it isn’t what it looks like—,”

She smiles brightly and shakes her head. “Pumpkin, it’s okay. I’m not as dumb of a mother as most kids tend to think their mothers are. Klaus has lived in my house for two months now; I’ve ought to have seen the way you look at each other. I just want to know if he makes you happy.”

Dave looks between his mom and Klaus, then decides. “Yes. Yes, Mama, he does.”

“Then you aren’t safe here.” her smile drops, but her comforting grip only tightens. “There are real bad people around these parts in this time. In the future, it’s different. I know it’s gotta be. As soon as I realized, I read up on the movement going around right now. Things are getting better. Klaus can take you to that better place and you’ll be okay.”

“No. Mama, no, I’m not going to leave you here.”

Her hand moves from his side to his cheek. “Klaus has told us all about his family and Ms. Patch, right? That’s a much better place for you. I’ll wait here for your father and you can come and get me once the war is over. I’m sure that Klaus will find a way to come and visit anyway. You picked a real smart one, David. I’m so proud of you.”

Dave sniffs and leans into her hand. “Our house is gone. What are you gonna do?”

“Mrs. Norice down the street just sent her boys to boarding school to keep them out of this dirty war mess. I’ll say the same and live with her until we can get everything all fixed up. Don’t worry about me, pumpkin. Like I said, you can come and visit whenever you want. You boys’ll pick me up and we’ll be back together faster than you can imagine.”

“Do you promise?”

“Of course I promise, pumpkin.” Mrs. Katz turns to Klaus. “Klaus, honeybee, can you do that? I can’t offer you much in return for what you’ve given my son, but he needs this. I can’t keep him safe anymore.”

Klaus nods fervently. “Of course, yes, I can do that. You’ve been so nice to me, Mrs. Katz; I’d do anything if this is what you really want. I’ll come and pick you up as soon as I can figure it out.”

She beams at him. Her face is tired. “Be good to Dave, Klaus. And Dave, you keep your chin up tight. Don’t make too much trouble in the future, however much I know you’ll want to.”

Dave laughs. “Okay, Mama. I love you and I’ll see you soon, right? You’ll stay here?”

“Right down at Mrs. Norice’s until we can start building here again.”

Dave rips out of her grasp and hugs her even tighter than before. Klaus lets them have their moment as he runs up to the ashes and grabs the stupid briefcase. He’d hated the thing at first, but his life has gotten a whole lot better with it than without. He takes his time in getting back to them, knowing how much a goodbye can mean.

Mrs. Katz is the one to let go. She ruffles her son’s hair one more time and smiles widely at him. Dave shakes himself off and beams in return. One thing that made Klaus fall for Dave so quickly was how resilient he is. He adapts faster than anything. Dave takes his hand firmly and holds the briefcase in the crook of his other arm. Klaus waves to Mrs. Katz and flips open the latches.

 

* * *

 

Five minutes after he left, Klaus reappears in 2001 with a blonde, curly-haired boy at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stitch and Mend™ aka Delaney Gives Nine Traumatized Children Good Moms™


	15. Tending the Family Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another child is added to the ranks. There are a concerning number of children in said ranks.

Klaus stumbles into Dave as the glowing blast dies down. After he gathers his bearings, he looks up to find all of his siblings staring at him, each seemingly interrupted in the middle of a screaming match. They used to happen so often that he hardly needs to look to be able to tell. It’s familiar in a way that makes him feel gross somewhere inside.

“Yo!” He kicks the briefcase to the floor in the middle of their circle. “You would not _believe_ what this thing does!”

Five grabs him by the collar. “Klaus, you _fucking asshole._ You can’t do stupid shit like that!”

“Hey, don’t cuss in front of Dave. He’s sensitive.” Klaus completely ignores the fact that he’s being nearly strangled and instead turns towards his passenger, who looks concerned at Klaus’s state. His hands are raised almost like he wants to intervene, but he’s seemed to have learned not to meddle in his affairs unless instructed otherwise. “Dave, this is Five! He’s a little pissy because I just disappeared.”

“Oh, Five!” Dave relaxes. He’s heard enough stories about the boy to know that intense anger was his usual reaction to surprising things. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Allison pulls Five away from Klaus, who reluctantly slinks back. “Klaus, where the hell did you go? Who is this?”

“That thing,” he points at the briefcase, “is how they time travel! Went all the way back to 1953. Met Dave there. He’s my boyfriend.” Dave chokes in surprise. “Don’t act like you didn’t know I was gonna say it! You literally ran to the future with me.”

His siblings take a moment to process. Diego makes a face. “You’ve buh-b-b-been gone for _fuh-five minutes.”_

Dave looks at Klaus, who shares a commiseratingly confused glance. “You lived with me for two months, right?”

“Yeah? June to July.” He shrugs. “Must be a time travel-y thing.”

Luther’s stony glare is practically tactile from his corner. “You went to the 50’s for two months and you… you just decided to stay there?” Klaus winces. “You have family here, Klaus. Everyone was worried about you. I thought I let you _die._ All of that’s fine to leave behind if it means you get to have fun, though, right?” Luther is almost never sarcastic. Klaus backs up, feeling attacked.

“That’s not fair, Luther!” At his brother’s eye-roll, Klaus continues. “I missed you guys the entire time. But there was _Dave._ I mean, look at him!” He gestures to his boyfriend, who puffs out his cheeks in embarrassment and swats his hand away. “He’s the kinda guy you’d take your southern grandma to get her off your back about your ‘scandalous’ lifestyle. He was just so sweet right off the bat and… and I knew that he needed help with some stuff.” Diego’s gaze catches with his. “I listened to what Diego said about how we screwed Patch over and I didn’t wanna just make another friend only to ruin it again.” _I want to prove that I don’t fuck everything up all the time._

Diego frowns, somber once again. “Klaus, that’s nuh-not what I mean-men-mee-meant.”

Klaus’s face twitches. “But you still said it.” He swallows and then looks back to the briefcase. “We have stuff to get back to, right? Where were we at? Patch is still in the hospital, I think, if it’s only been five minutes.”

“Correctamundo.” At the sound of Ben’s voice, Klaus mindlessly reaches for his hand and holds it tightly. Dave smiles. He knows how much Klaus had missed his best friend. “We should get back inside and you can explain everything to the Patches. Mom had said they were working out some plans though, right?”

Mom nods calmly. “Yes, dear. Ms. Patch should be waiting with her list as we speak.” Before she heads to the door, she crouches in front of Klaus and Dave. “Klaus, darling, it’s very good to have you home and safe. Dave, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m sure that you’ve done a great deal of good for my son.”

Klaus absolutely glows at the “my son” comment. Mom had never been allowed to show any personal endearment to them before.

“I appreciate the warm welcome ma’am. Klaus talked about you guys all the time.” He beams widely, showing off two pronounced dimples. “It’s like meeting his heroes. What an honor, you know?”

Klaus groans. “You’re allowed to be a dork, but that doesn’t mean you can make _me_ look like a dork. I don’t know if you know this, Prettyboy, but I’m generally very cool.”

“Eugh!” Diego spins around and leads the march back into the hospital. “I don’t wanna wuh-w-watch my brother flirt. It’s wei-eird.”

“As if we don’t have to watch you and Patch.” Allison holds open the door for the rest of them.

Diego goes beet red. “Sh-shuh-shut up!”

The walk back to Patch’s room is quick. Allison has to rumor the lady at the front desk not to ask about Dave, but other than that, it goes smoothly. Once they open the door, they find Patch situated comfortably with her back against the wall and the crayon drawing hugged to her chest. Ms. Patch has bags under her eyes, but seems happy to be with her daughter. Klaus deposits Patch’s backpack on the end of the bed.

“Oh, hey, guys!” Her eyes are still a little unfocused from what they assume is the pain medicine, but she’s more lucid than she was. She adamantly does not look at Diego. Not that she blames him or anything, but she just feels ashamed and doesn’t want him to feel forced into keeping her around. “How are things?” It’s pretty obvious when she notices Dave. She cocks her head. “Who, um… who is that?”

Dave reaches a hand out for Patch to shake. She does so. “Sorry to intrude! I’m Dave Katz. Klaus has told me so much about you, Patch. Real nice to meet you.”

“He’s my boyfriend.” adds Klaus, proudly.

“Lovely to make your acquaintance, Dave.” Patch looks at the rest of the Hargreeves siblings, eyes almost hissing a sentiment along the lines of _“Klaus has a boyfriend and nobody felt the need to tell me?”_

Vanya lets a laugh out into her hands and moves to sit by Patch. “We just found out, too. It’s, um, a very long story. So, the people that shot you were time-travelers.”

Patch waits for Vanya to continue. She doesn’t. “Well, why wouldn’t they be, I guess? Life has gotten very strange recently.” Patch notices that she’s holding the drawing and shoves it under her pillow. Diego takes Allison’s hand, who swings their fists slightly in a comforting motion.

“They had this briefcase thing. Klaus made a good move and took it when we left. He then made a bad move and actually opened it while we were trying to talk to them.” Ben shrugs. “It was their time travel device thingy. He went back to, um…”

“1953.” Dave provides.

“I met Dave there.” Klaus leans his head on Dave’s shoulder. With anyone else it would be PDA, but Klaus does this sort of thing with everyone. “Decided to stick around for a bit. I crashed on his couch for about two months. We actually did some research on time travel while I was there, even if it was just in novels. They’re pretty smart, though! You have to figure those things out logistically in order to write about it. So we got some theories.”

Ms. Patch visibly swallows. “Grace?”

“I am unable to detect any discrepancies with this, Jesse.” Ms. Patch puts her face in her hands. Patch pats her back, understanding the general upset that comes with accepting weirdness in your daily life.

“Why did you come back?” Five blinks as the room turns on him angrily. “I just meant that you said you were trying to help Dave out. I don’t imagine you finished in two months. Plus, you brought him back with you.”

He pauses and looks to Dave for confirmation. Dave shrugs and looks at the floor. “We went out for milkshakes today—did you know that ice cream is also a drink now?—and while we were out, some homophobic losers went and burned Dave’s house down because we were super cute together.” Each of his siblings snarls in disgust. “Things weren’t exactly gonna get better for him from there. So his mom, who is totally super rad by the way, sent him with me so he could stay safe here until she’s got everything settled enough to come to this time and raise him again.”

Dave wraps an arm around Klaus’s side for comfort, still a little touchy at the mention of his mom. Klaus snuggles in further.

Ms. Patch is completely pale by now. What used to be brown skin now matches the blood-deficient color of her daughter’s complexion. She looks to be fighting with herself, but eventually adds, “Oh, honey, we’d be happy to have you. Our house is an open space for certain.” Patch snorts. “Open” is an understatement. She’s seen old photos of her parents at protests, bisexual colors prominent. She can recognize them anywhere because she doodles them on the covers of all of her notebooks. “I’m not going to lie and say that this makes things easier. With, um, with our current living arrangements and financial situation it’ll take some doing, but I’m not going to leave you in the cold, Dave.”

The boy wipes at his face and bounds over to give Ms. Patch a hug. Surprised, it takes her a second to worm her arms around his back in return. “Klaus told me that you were really nice, but I think he undersold it. Ms. Patch, _thank you.”_

“Of course, sweetheart.” As soon as Dave pulls away, she stands up and pulls her phone out of her pocket. She still looks a little dazed. “Now, I have to go and call my supervisor. She said she would wait up for information on the surgery, so I guess I’ll just add this in.” On her way out, she lays a hand on Allison’s shoulder. “Allison, sweetie, I’m really sorry, but we’re going to have to lie to the law a little bit, which means I’ll need your help.”

Allison claps her hands together in joy. “I get to be a criminal?”

Ms. Patch rubs her face tiredly. “Please call it ‘being a lawyer.’ I’m a cop.” The door closes behind her.

Five blinks forward and grabs the notebook Ms. Patch left on her seat. Grace doesn’t stop him, so he assumes it’s information he’s allowed to know. A large “DAVE??????” is circled at the bottom, but he snorts and ignores it. “Looks like we’re still scheduled for questioning tomorrow.” he reads off to his siblings. “We’re down primarily as a child abuse case. From what she wrote, I think she wants to settle this out of court.” Five frowns deeply. “That doesn’t sound effective.”

Patch yawns. It’s well past midnight and she has far less blood than she did this morning. “Your dad is rich, Five. If we take it to court, we lose your case automatically.” Vanya shifts so that Patch’s head is resting on her stomach.

“Patch, we have _so much_ evidence against him. Grace literally has personal recordings of her entire life with him saved in his office. It doesn’t matter what he has; we trump him. Always.” Luther crosses his arms.

“I don’t blame you, really, but you don’t understand money.” She stares at the ceiling. “Money can get you anything. Five, turn back a page.” Five flips the notebook and his eyes scan down the paper in shock. “That’s a list of everything he can even slightly charge you for. It’s likely that my mom will be arrested for kidnapping because she called in your case after you ran to our house, plus she doesn’t have official documents stating that you can live with us for the time being. Not to mention all the stuff that he has on you. With the best lawyer money can buy, he can push those on you and distract from legitimate child abuse. He can pay the judge to let him off. He can do anything and no one can stop him.” Her attention moves back to the siblings. “We have no choice but to settle it out of court.”

The siblings all tense. “Duh-do we even huh-h-have a chance to muh-ma-ae-make a change that st-sticks?”

Patch shrugs, posture weary in the hospital bed. For the first time since he left, she looks at Diego. Both eyes are apologetic in their own ways for their own reasons. “I don’t know, Diego. I’m sorry, I just don’t know.”

“Patch?” asks Five, an innocent look on his face. “Does your mother have a pen around here?”

“Yeah? It’s on the table there.”

Five picks it up, uncaps it gently, and flips the page. He scribbles on it harshly with wide, confident strokes. It’s obvious that at least three pages behind the paper would have an indent from the strength that he used when dotting the period. With care, he turns the page around. “MAKE A SHITSHOW.” faces them eagerly, letters angry and huge.

“Before we talk to Dad, we need to rally the public.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me every chapter: i'm going to post at a good time this time, i swear!  
> me at midnight: :0


	16. What the Recorder Says

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interviews with Ms. Patch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: descriptions of child abuse/trauma

With Ms. Patch’s interviews being so soon, they decide to leave their plan until afterwards and see what they can get out of her first regarding it. Grace succinctly promises not to say anything.

Ms. Patch comes back in fairly quickly, expression tired and thumbs still tapping at the keypad. “Okay, kiddos, we’ve got a basic frame for what we’re gonna do.” She looks back up and her gaze catches on Eudora. “Oh, jellybean, Bossman Nemona says that she’s glad you’re better. She hopes you can visit the station again soon.”

Patch smiles. “Tell her ‘thank you.’”

“Already done!” She turns back to the kids. “So, Grace went ahead and got that apartment near ours. I would let you stay in mine for the night, but… it’s not in good shape yet, I bet you can guess. We’ll have a cleaning crew out there tomorrow. Either way, you kids need to sleep at your new apartment tonight because this hospital room is extremely tiny.” She pinches her fingers together for emphasis.

“Does it even have furniture?” asks Five.

Ms. Patch makes a face. “Enough for you to sleep, at least. We can get the rest settled later.” She gives Grace the keys to the van.

Dave raises his hand sheepishly. “Where, uh… where exactly am I going, miss?”

Patch clears a space for her mom on the bed because she knows exactly what the woman had been thinking of. Ms. Patch temples her fingers together. “Well, Dave, I think that Grace here has too many children to take care of. Your mother isn’t here yet, though, so we have to find something temporary. I’ll talk to you more about it later with all of the legal shiz and whatnot, but would you be interested in going into my care for awhile? Only if you say yes will I pursue anything close to that, I promise.

Dave immediately beams. “You would do that for me?”

“Duh, kiddo.”

“Then I say sure.”

Klaus claps his boyfriend on the back and nuzzles their cheeks together. Patch snorts and tries to kick him away with her foot so he’ll stop being disgustingly sweet. Klaus just sticks his tongue out.

“So, other children, you’ll be heading off to your new apartment and Dave will stay the night here with me and my natural kid here. Grace, could you please pick Dave out some new clothes on your way over?”

“Of course, Jesse!”

Ms. Patch thanks her and sends the Hargreeves on their collective way. Diego gives Patch a fist-bump before leaving, which is as close to an apology as he thinks he’s going to be able to get until they can end up somewhere alone. Patch doesn’t stop smiling until he’s out the door.

 

* * *

 

The next day after waking up bright and early to Eudora and Dave groaning as Klaus makes a ruckus in the doorway, Ms. Patch sets a notebook down on the police station’s interrogation table and takes a seat across from Luther. Luther folds his hands together and looks at a device resting in between them.

“It’s protocol to record interviews. Is that good with you?”

Luther pauses for a moment and then nods. “Sure. I just didn’t know recording devices could be so big.”

She cocks a brow but leaves his statement alone. “Let’s start then, yeah?” Carefully, she starts writing on her papers. “This is Officer Patch on the Hargreeves case. Could you please state your name for the record, buddy?”

“One Hargreeves.”

Her hand pauses in its writing and she looks back up at him. “Sorry; I need your full name, including your first one.”

He makes a face. “I said that. One Hargreeves.”

“I’m almost certain that I’ve only heard you be called ‘Luther’ by the others.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize you were asking for my nickname.” Luther notices her confusion and his mouth pulls into a straight line in understanding. “Each of us has a number—our legal name. I’m One, Diego is Two, Allison is Three, and you can infer the rest based on how we usually line up. For our fifth birthday, Mom gave us names.” He puffs out his chest proudly. “My name means that I’m a soldier.”

Ms. Patch runs her fingers along the bridge of her nose. She carefully holds back some choice remarks about their asshole of a parent. “I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized we would be getting into questioning already. I just want you to know that there are some rules, alright?” Luther immediately perks up at the mention of ‘rules,’ which Eudora had told her before that he tends to do. “If I’m wrong about something, then you let me know. If you don’t know something, then you let me know. If you think something is useless information, then it isn’t, and you let me know anyway. Does that make sense? Can you do that?”

After taking a moment to absorb the information, Luther nods stoically. “Yes, ma’am.”

She snorts. “You don’t have to call me ‘ma’am’ if you don’t want to, Luther. This is a relaxed space.” Her hand picks back up in adding to her notes. “You said that your father gave you numbers instead of names. How were those used in your household?”

“Um, it’s the only thing he calls us. Our names are more for us, Mom, and the public than they’re supposed to be real names.” He takes a moment to think. “I guess he used the numbers just as a replacement for names? It would also make it easier to arrange us for training.”

“Could you elaborate on what you mean by ‘training?’”

“Yes. Everyday we train, because we have duties as superheroes. After breakfast, Pogo takes us to do general physical training. On all days except Thursday, one of us is taken away for individual power training. On Thursdays we have battles where we fight each other with our powers in order to work on combat skills.”

Ms. Patch swallows. “I see. How do you use your powers in training, Luther?”

He looks at his hands and flexes the tendons there. “I’m super strong, so I do a lot of strength work. In physical training, when we lift weights, I generally lift a few thousand pounds. My personal training is the same, but with more practical weights than a machine. Most of the time it’s doing stuff like carrying Dad’s car around the garage or uprooting and adjusting support beams in the house. During the fights, I just have to knock the others out. I win more than I lose.”

“Do any of you ever get injured in your… ‘fights?’”

“Yeah? I mean, it wouldn’t be a fight if we didn’t.” He seems astounded that she wouldn’t get it and then quickly shakes himself off in order to finish what was requested of him and continue the interview. “Diego throws knives, so we almost always end up with a few gashes. Ben doesn’t use his power very much, but that usually ends in strangling when he does. Five throws a good punch. I’ve put the others in the medical station fairly regularly. None of the others are much to fret about.”

The woman takes a deep breath and pulls her hands across her face. She reaches into her case and pulls out a water bottle, which she hands to Luther. She takes a swig of her own coffee before settling back down and resuming her previous posture. “I want to let you know that that is not appropriate behavior for a parent to expect of you. You should never get injured in your own house unless it’s a complete accident.”

Luther blinks. “Oh. But Patch comes in with bruises sometimes?”

Ms. Patch’s eyes darken and stares blankly at the wall. “Then we’ll have to talk about that. It is in no way related to our household however, Luther. I would never lay a hand on my daughter, and your father shouldn’t do it to you, either.” She looks back at him. “When I met you, Five had been stricken across the face with a cane, yes?”

“Yes.”

“And your father was the culprit?”

“He was.”

“Klaus mentioned that the use of the cane was common. Is that true?”

“He only uses it when we deserve it.”

She frowns. “Could you tell me more about that?”

And he does. He spends the rest of their time together discussing the rules of the house and how often they seem to be broken. Ms. Patch is quickly made aware of all of the punishments the children were faced with, as well as their inhuman daily routine. At the end of the time, she thanks the boy and sends him back to his siblings. She would ask him to send Diego back after him, but she needs a minute. She shuts off the recorder and swipes at her face, shooting a punch at the table. After her mind is clear, she walks back into the precinct and calls up the next sibling.

 

* * *

 

“Diego Hargruh-g-greeves.”

Ms. Patch smiles at him. “You seemed to be enjoying talking to the other officers, huh, Diego?”

“O-oh yeah! I like helping pe-eople and killing bad guys, just li-li-like you guys. It’s cool to suh-see people do it withou-out superpowers.”

A beat.

 _God, talking to these kids is like walking through a minefield full of childhood traumas._ “Diego, law enforcement officers rarely ever kill people. In fact, we try to avoid it.” He looks like he doesn’t believe her, but she makes the most trustworthy face she can and he calms down. “I’m concerned about the fact that you don’t seem concerned about killing people. Why is that, Diego?”

“Well, it’s nuh-n-n-not like I _like_ kill-ill-ih-illing people. I don’t think anyone thuh-that kills people duh-does.”

“Most people that kill people like killing very much. If you don’t like to kill people, you don’t tend to do it.”

His face screws up. “Are you s-sure?”

“Entirely.” She purses her lips. She is well within her professional opinion to say that these kids have a fucked worldview. “No jobs besides—yes—some cases of law enforcement and military work require murder. Murder is one of the _most_ illegal things you can do.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, I thuh-th-though-thought so, but I thought it just made y-y-you the worst. The only people that cuh-c-can go after murderers are superher-roes.”

“And the law.”

“Are we guh-going to jail?”

She shakes her head with a gentle demeanor. “No. You’re protected by the Superhero Clause installed in our state since your father turned in your paperwork and continues to do so for each of your cases. I’ve found that I’m unable to access that paperwork, though, so I imagine that he paid his way out of getting it looked into.”

“Thuh-that sounds li-lie-lie-lie-lie… like him. He doesn’t like puh-p-puh-p-people knowing about de-detauh-details of our missions.”

“Have you ever heard the term ‘child soldier?’”

Diego nods. “Yuh-yeah! That’s what Duh-d-d-d-Dad calls us.”

She slams her face into her hands and pinches her forehead. The bastard wasn’t even fucking _trying_ to hide what he was doing and it took her daughter illegally trespassing on his property for months to expose it. She’s going to have to speak to the child abuse case workers and see if they can’t up their game a little bit. “Raising child soldiers is extremely illegal. It is also a gigantic case of child abuse.”

“Oh.” His hand reaches for the knives she knows he has strapped to his thigh.

“You look like you want to talk about something else, Diego.”

He lets out a breath. “Please?”

She smiles. “Of course.” Her notebook flips forward a page and she starts a new line. “Would you mind telling me what you think about your father, or is that too much?”

He peers up at her through his eyelashes, distrusting. “Can I suh-s-s-say mean things?”

“If you want.”

“Then it’s d-duh-def-deffo-definitely not too much.”

Diego enthusiastically spends about thirty minutes cussing out Reginald Hargreeves. She learns a lot about the man, although she has to heavily filter the language when writing the information down. Ms. Patch has to admit that the rest of the interview session makes her laugh, even when the topic is morbid and awful. Diego looks pleased with himself when she sends him back down to the waiting room to grab the next sibling.

 

* * *

 

“Allison Hargreeves.”

“Good morning, Allison! How are you liking the new apartment?”

She beams. “Oh, it’s really nice, Ms. Patch! Not something that I’m used to, but I get to share a room with Vanya, and it’s really nice to know that she’s okay. The bed isn’t as comfortable as my last one, but I like it a lot more.”

“I’m very glad. Our apartment complex is pretty nice compared to others around it.”

Allison smiles but doesn’t comment. Ms. Patch supposes that she isn’t used to smalltalk. Not that she blames her; she’s never been a fan of it herself.

“Did you share a room with any of your other siblings when you lived with your father?”

“Oh, no. We all had separate rooms. We were kept pretty isolated other than training and meals.”

“Right, Luther mentioned that. Do you like being together more now?”

The girl completely brightens and sets her hands down on the table, using them to elevate her torso in excitement. “Yeah! They suck a lot, so don’t tell them, but it’s nice to see them when we’re not being watched by Dad. Getting to say whatever I want is really, really cool, especially when it’s to them.”

Ms. Patch makes a face. “Given your power, I’d imagine that you’d get to do and say whatever you want all the time.”

She lowers herself down again. “I’m not permitted to use my powers in the house unless it’s for training. Even then, Dad tells me what to say. I only really get to use my own powers during missions, but then I have to use them to make people shoot each other.”

“I can’t imagine how he would make you not use your power.”

“Duct tape.”

She blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Whenever my siblings act up or I look like I’m getting some sort of an emotion, Dad makes Pogo tape my mouth shut so I can’t talk. It’s the really sticky kind, so I can’t take it off by myself without tearing skin. Mom has a chemical cleaner of some sort that dissolves the glue, so we use that when the problem’s passed. It leaves my face really dry.”

Ms. Patch takes a moment to think about it and sucks on the insides of her cheeks. “That is… that’s not okay, Allison. I feel like I’ve been saying that a lot today.”

“You should. I’ve always known that stuff wasn’t okay.”

A smile. “I’m proud of you for keeping your head while dealing with that.” She scribbles in her notebook. “How much else were you not allowed to say?”

Allison sinks down in her chair and taps on the edge of the table. “Almost anything. Any opinion immediately sounded like the lead up to a rumor, so I couldn’t say anything that I thought. If I said anything Dad didn’t like, I would get duct taped. If I misbehaved, I got duct taped. It was one of the few punishments that really messed with me, so he used it a lot. It’s like… it’s like I wasn’t allowed to exist.” She clenches her knees together and looks back up. “I’ve never existed before, but now I do. It’s _really_ nice, Ms. Patch. I get to talk whenever I want about whatever I want. I didn’t know how good it would feel.”

Ms. Patch puts a fist in front of her mouth and breathes into it. “Allison, I am so happy for you. How does being able to talk change things?”

“I was thinking that I wanted to say _so much_ to _everyone_ when this opportunity came, but I don’t think so now. I just wanna say the right things to the right people. Things that I think to people that I care about.” She pulls a lock of hair into her hand and starts combing it with her fingers. “And now that I can’t get the tape anymore, my siblings can say whatever they want, too, without the threat of me being shut up. I didn’t like holding them back.”

“I’m sure you never did, sweetheart. If they were quiet for that, then they wanted to do it for you. That’s just being a family.”

Allison slowly starts to grin again. “Yeah.”

Ms. Patch asks her to say whatever she can think of, so Allison goes on a tangent about her opinions on the world. The information she gives about the Hargreeves household is a bit sparser than the others’, but just as useful. It also all has that personalized tint of Allison’s vocabulary, which Ms. Patch makes sure to record in her notebook the best that she can. Allison bounds out with a sore throat and a soft smile on her face.

 

* * *

 

“Klaus Hargreeves!”

Klaus clunks his bare feet on the table in front of him. Ms. Patch snorts behind her hand but lets him be. It’s just something she notices that he does to feel more comfortable, and she’s not going to take that from him in this situation. “Why hello, Klaus. You seem plenty happy today.”

He raises his chin and grins at the ceiling, face crooked and dopey. “Dave was happy this morning and I’m happy for him.”

Ms. Patch can’t help but smile. “I’m glad he’s getting accustomed to our time.”

“He’s cool like that, I know.”

Time for questions. “How do you think he’d react if he had to live in your old house with you?”

Klaus’s face immediately goes dark. “Pal, as if I’d ever let that happen. Dave isn’t allowed within a mile of my Dad.”

“Why’s that?”

“He sucks. Dave’s too rad for him.”

The woman laughs slightly. “Gotcha there. I’d have to agree.” She flips a page in her notebook. “What about him sucks, would you say?”

“Oh, just about everything. He’s old, first off. I mean, no diss to old people, but he’s had grandpa whiskers since he first got us. I think he’s perma-old. It’s wild. He’s also an abusive shithead and totally fucked us up for the rest of our lives, but that ranks behind the ‘old’ thing, I think.”

“You’re one of the first ones to say that he was abusive right off the bat.”

He hums. “I guess I wouldn’t have, two… uh, a few hours ago. Then I left for two months and I met even more people who actually care about me and never had to face my Dad. Then I just got to thinking, ‘hey, would I let Dave or Mrs. Katz near Dear Old Daddy?’ and the answer to that was ‘absolutely the fuck not,’ so that took awhile to deal with. Now I have no sympathy for the guy and I hope we can put him in the slammer. Do we get to do that if it’s out of court? I really wanna see him there.”

Ms. Patch blinks, stunned. Klaus had always seemed like one of the more forgiving Hargreeves siblings, even if their father deserved worse than death. He never instigated violence and never wanted to fight. “Unfortunately, no. But I can promise you that we will keep him far, far away from all of you.” She clicks her tongue. “This is a bit more aggressive than I’m used to from you, Klaus. What changed?”

“People gave me stuff and nobody made me feel guilty for it.” He picks under his nails, still slightly wet. He had been painting them in the waiting area with Allison and Five.

“Could you elaborate?”

“Yeah.” he huffs and sits up in the chair, bringing his feet back to the floor. “I’m mouthy and stuff like that, but every punishment Papa tries just stops being effective once I get used to it. So he started taking things away. If I talk back, I don’t eat. If I can’t pay attention, then I’m locked in my room without my family. If I act out on television, he pretends I’m not there for weeks at a time. If it’s… if it’s really bad, he sends me out.”

“Where does he send you, Klaus?”

He swallows, tugging on the hem of his skirt. “I haven’t said this to anyone, so you can’t tell them.”

“I promise I won’t. This recording stays with me and will only be used to give your father the punishment he deserves.”

Klaus nods and looks up, still nervous. “I see ghosts. They’re not pretty.”

“Describe them?”

“They look like they did when they died. I hate to body shame, but they’re ugly as fuck. Only the ones ‘killed in a terrible passion’ or with ‘unfinished business’ or whatever the fuck stick around, so they’re the kind I see. Bloody gore all over everything. Nobody’s died in here recently, but there’s a ton of rusty trails on the floor. In the waiting room, there’s a few gunshot victims. They keep screaming at me and it’s super annoying. Less corpses than in any other building I’ve been in, though, which is not quite what I expected from a police building.” He pauses. “They’re always angry. They know that I’m alive and I can hear them, somehow, so they _hate_ me. Hate you, hate my siblings, hate Patch, but mostly have hateboners for me. And Dad knows that.” Klaus looks up at the ceiling and twists his fingers together. They shake. “Dad knows that.”

She isn’t sure she wants to ask. “What does he do, since he knows that?”

“Behind the house, there’s a mausoleum. And _god,_ those ghosts are angry.”

Ms. Patch lets him talk for a full hour. It’s longer than she’d planned for, but Klaus obviously needs it. Somewhere around the part where he repeats the phrase “three more hours” a few times, she sits on the floor beside him and pulls him into her lap. He doesn’t cry, but she can tell he wants to. Instead of making him go back, she shows him where a secluded bathroom is and tells him to stay there for as long as he wants. His eyes are grateful and he gives her a quick hug before running inside. As she heads back to the waiting room to grab Five, she mentally tries to decide how many bullet holes Reginald Hargreeves’s shitty, shitty body could hold without dissolving.

 

* * *

 

“Five Hargreeves.”

“Heya, Five!” She adjusts her notebook and starts writing immediately. She knows how much Five hates not getting to the point, so she just does. “I’ve noticed that you haven’t picked up a real-person name like the others.”

“I wasn’t allowed to.”

A pause. “Oh?”

He sits neatly and rests his hands on his knees. “Something that I feel I need to preface all of this with is the fact that Reginald Hargreeves will do anything for control. I have a few notebooks dedicated to evidence of the fact, and I have to say that it’s bordering on a mental disorder at this point. Dad wants power.”

Ms. Patch doesn’t disagree.

“I am not willing to give into that. This doesn’t make me one of his favorites.”

“I imagine.”

“Around the birthday that Mom gave us our names, I had been training on my own. Dad found out and got livid about it. Cane, yelling, missing dinner, all of the usual. And when Mom got around to naming me, he told her to forget it. He made her completely erase the name I was going to get from her memory because my number is a way he has to control me. He wasn’t going to give that up, Ms. Patch. I hope you understand.”

Her nostrils flare. “Doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

He snorts, sardonic. “Me either.”

“Why don’t you get a new name now?”

“‘Five’ is his way of controlling me. If I get out of his command, though, and I still have this name, then it means that it’s for me. I made it my own and I found my own power in it. He might have made me for himself, but I’m mine now.”

She knows it’s not always good to hold onto those keepsakes. She just has to make sure that it’s healthy for him. “And if he didn’t factor into it?”

Five squirms in his seat and looks at the table. “I…”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

His gaze shifts towards the corner of the room and his ears blaze red. “It wouldn’t be my name, no matter what I picked instead.” He bites his lip. “Mom came up with a name for me. That’s _my_ name. I’ll never know what it is and neither will she. It’s a one in infinity chance that I pick the same one. I have a name somewhere out there. It’s gone, now, but it was still my name. It was still _mine._ I don’t want to betray that fact.”

Ms. Patch wipes the soft look off of her face so Five won’t see. “That’s totally fair, Five. You’re allowed to set boundaries. I’m proud of you for it.”

He seems stunned for a moment, but then shakes himself back out of it. “What have the others said so far? I can cover any loose details.”

“I’m sorry, bud; I can’t tell you that.”

“Then I’ll start from the beginning, I think, because they probably wouldn’t mention it.”

“You know, this usually isn’t how interviews like this go.”

“Do you have a problem with it?”

“Absolutely not. Please continue, Five.”

He clears his throat and takes a sip of water from a bottle one of the recruits probably bought him. “Did you know that all of us have the same birthday? We were all born to women that weren’t pregnant when the day started.”

Five regales the tale of their birth and then their purchase (god, when she thinks Reginald can’t get to be much more of an asshole, she continues to be astounded). He's very matter-of-fact, but clearly has a soft spot whenever he mentions his family. Ms. Patch makes a note to check the information he gave her for dates and further data later. She thanks him and he gives a satisfied smile, promising to send Ben back.

 

* * *

 

“Ben Hargreeves.”

“How are you, Ben? There’s been a lot of changes in your life recently.”

He blinks. “Oh, I’m okay! They’re good changes, so it’s good. It’s just kind of weird to have more people taking care of my family.”

“Who was taking care of you all before?”

“Well, Mom, I guess. But also, Luther keeps us in line and Five makes sure we’re safe. I do what I can, too, which is what makes it weird. It’s not like I got my job taken away, really, but it’s kind of nice to be able to step down a little bit and think about myself. Is that selfish, do you think?”

“Absolutely not, Ben. You’re a kid; you should be keeping yourself healthy, first.” She gives a placating smile to him before looking down at her notebook again. “What would you say your ‘job’ is?”

“I make sure they’re happy.”

“Oh? What does that mean?”

He makes eye contact with her and gestures with his hands while he talks. “You know that our house isn’t a really nice place. Dad doesn’t give us any free time, really, so we can’t process stuff, either. So I read a lot of psychology and parenting books and I figured out how to take care of my family.” He reaches for something in his overall pocket and starts to fiddle with it, making crinkling sounds. A candy wrapper. She smirks. Jefferson loves to give those out. “I ask them how they’re doing and what they need. I just try to be there, you know?”

“That’s extremely kind of you, Ben. You’re a really sweet boy.”

Ben beams.

“Why is that _your_ job, though?”

“Luther is kind of… dense. And Five doesn’t have a lot of awareness for tone or how other people feel. Klaus is… no, and Vanya has her own problems. Allison can’t talk to us much and Diego gets angry way too quickly. That leaves me. I try to be very good at it.”

“I’m sure you are. It must be a lot of pressure.”

“Sometimes. But it’s not that bad. Other things are worse.”

She cocks her head. “Like what?”

He pulls his mouth thin. “A lot of what I talk to the others about is how Dad makes us use our powers. He’s not nice about it at all. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that he sucks major butt about it. I already don’t like my powers, but Dad keeps making me use Them and use Them and use Them… I hate it.”

“Could you describe Them?”

Ben pauses for a minute and thinks about the question, then responds. “You know how the back of your tongue is supposed to go all the way down to your stomach, right?”

“Sure.”

“Well, it’s like someone took the end of that and tied it around my spine. And when I have to release Them, it’s like They’re grabbing onto my spine as an anchor and they just try to pull it out of my stomach. My back and my throat just kind of… they hurt. A lot. I feel the aftereffects for hours. Not to mention the fact that They just want to kill things and Dad won’t stop Them. He cheers them on, makes them do _more_ damage. He brings in people sometimes for Them to throttle. He does that for all of our training, but I hate it so much.”

Ms. Patch lays a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Ben, it’s okay. It’s not your choice for Them to do what They do. Your father is clearly pushing your boundaries and doesn’t care if you don’t want to do it. This isn’t your idea and you don’t have to let that happen anymore.”

Ben starts to look up but instead stares at the floor. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “I read his notes over his shoulder once while we were training. He said that They could kill me one day. He knew that and he never told me, never warned me, never trained me any less. He would have let me die to get more ‘powerful’ or whatever, Ms. Patch. I could be dead.”

Fuck it. She gets up and pulls him into a hug. “You’re not. You’re alive now and we’re never letting him tell you what to do again. If you don’t want to let Them see the sun, you don’t have to. If you want to keep training, then you can. It’s up to you, sweetheart.”

The boy nods into her chest and clears his throat. She easily sits back down and Ben lets her continue the interview. He gives more facts about the general treatment of the others and how adult they’re expected to be. His interview is rather short, but she’s happy to let that be the case. Ben doesn’t seem to like talking about his family’s (or his own) problems all too much. Ms. Patch sends him off with a general statement not to wear himself too thin and to remember that he is his own person. That seems to brighten him up considerably.

 

* * *

 

“Vanya Hargreeves.”

“It’s good to see you, Vanya.” Vanya shifts nervously in her seat but shoots a shaky smile towards the woman. Ms. Patch returns it. “Sorry to keep you waiting for so long. I hope it wasn’t too bad?”

“Oh, not at all! I talked to Allison and Ben a lot.”

“I’m glad they could be there with you. Why did you talk to them and not the others?”

There’s a small clunking sound as Vanya kicks her shoes together under the table. “I like all of my siblings, Ms. Patch.”

“I know that you do, Vanya. It’s okay.”

“I guess they’re just… softer? Maybe? They listen to me more than the others do sometimes. Not that I blame them! They can just get very involved in their own lives and that’s extremely okay with me. But Allison and Ben like to remind me that I’m part of the family, too, and I like it.”

“Do you not feel like part of the family very often?”

“No.” She pauses to think, then restates. “Well, I do now. But not as much before.”

Ms. Patch cocks her head. “What do you mean by that, Vanya?”

She purses her lips and looks at the table, drawing faint lines on it with a fingertip. “I didn’t have powers for a very long time, Ms. Patch. In my family everyone has powers, so until I got some, Dad wouldn’t let me be part of the family. I couldn’t see the others unless I was in charge of timing training.” Vanya squirms. “Things got better when we met Patch. She let us all hang out. I stopped being anxious because people started caring about me, so I stopped taking my medicine.”

“Do you know what kind of medicine it was?”

A sniff. “No.” She makes eye contact. “But, but Klaus does. You can ask him after?”

“Of course, Vanya.” The woman makes a note of it. “How does Klaus know?”

“He’s really good at chemistry.” A small smile pulls her cheeks up and then she relaxes them again. “We figured it out because I got my powers.”

Ms. Patch waits for Vanya to say something, but she doesn’t. She sets her notebook down and lays the pen on the table, letting the girl see that she’s open to listen. “How did you get your powers?”

Vanya’s hands inch across the table. Ms. Patch takes the hint and gently holds one of them, letting Vanya reach out and request for her to grab the other. “Patch was there and everything was so _bad_ and suddenly I was angry and the air was cold and everything on the floor floated into the air. It was dark because I blew the lights out. I couldn’t even _think._ It was the worst thing ever. Then Luther grabbed me and Allison came up and told me and… I had them the whole time, I think.” The lights overhead flicker, but Vanya stares at them and they stop. “I had powers for years and I never knew.”

“What did Allison tell you, sweetheart?”

“That she helped Dad lock me up.”

Vanya lets go of Ms. Patch and curls into herself in the seat. She continues staring at the light fixtures, eyes glowing from a mixture of the reflections and the hold on her powers. Ms. Patch doesn’t pick up her notebook again, but she visualizes what she’s going to write.

“Your father locked you up?”

“With Patch, we would stay in a room in the basement so he wouldn’t see us. He doesn’t check down there. There was a big metal box with a big, big lock on it. It always made me uncomfortable.” She tugs on her sleeve. “When I got my powers back, Allison remembered locking me in there. Dad made her… made her tell me not to think that I’m special. That I don’t have powers. And then I got my medicine, and the powers stopped.”

“Power blockers, do you think?”

“Klaus said they were a kind of heavy sedative.”

Ms. Patch growls and then clamps a hand over her mouth. Vanya smiles faintly and unfurls a little. “How long have you been taking these, Vanya?”

“I was supposed to take three everyday. I took them from when I was four years old, Allison said.”

“Were you ever told what they were?”

“Dad said that they were for my anxiety. I’m a very anxious person.”

Ms. Patch picks her notebook back up and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Well, you’re doing a very, very good job right now, Vanya, even if you’re nervous. I’m proud of you.” At Vanya’s astonished look, Ms. Patch bites her lip. “Has anyone ever been proud of you before?”

“Not until I got my powers.”

Vanya continues rambling on with the assistance of Ms. Patch’s guiding questions until one of her colleagues announces that they should be wrapping up for the day and getting the other kids home. Reginald Hargreeves proves himself yet again to be a cold, unfeeling man. The only thing Vanya seems to own or treasure in her life is a violin he had let her take; the only kindness he’d ever shown. She almost cries with how much she misses it. Ms. Patch promises that they’ll get it back when they settle things with Reginald and secretly promises to give her the best Christmas ever with whatever money she can manage to save by then, which likely isn’t much.

The girl leaves before she does. Jesse carefully cleans up the room, making sure the recorder is clicked off and her notebook is safely back in her case. She hands the recorder to another officer on the way out. The kids are smiling when she gets out there, but she’s not sure she trusts it. They climb into the seats of the van with much less fuss than they had earlier in the morning.

  

* * *

 

When she reaches the hospital again, the sky is darkening and all of the kids are asleep. Luther is in the seat beside her, hands folded carefully. Vanya has her head in Allison’s lap, who’s collapsed over on her side. Klaus and Ben have their heads knocked together, both snoring loudly. Five is curled up away from Diego, but the boy has a hand on his ankle anyway. She gently wakes Luther up and tells him to watch the others, which is a task he accepts with ease.

Ms. Patch finds her way to the hospital room quickly and shows up to see Eudora sleeping on the bed with Dave resting on a cot nearby, playing cards and half-finished drawings scattered like snowflakes between them. The moonlight glints from the window and off of the wax. Grace waves happily at her and informs her that the children are well. Eudora seems to really like Dave. That makes her smile.

She hands Grace the keys to the car and instructs her to take the kids to their new apartment. They should have time to get sort of settled in the morning before they meet back up again at the hospital in the afternoon. Grace agrees that it’s a good plan and heads out.

When the coast is clear, she finds a bathroom in the hallway, locks the door, sits on the lid of the toilet, and sobs her eyes out. Ms. Patch clutches her case to her chest and heaves out a eulogy for the kind of people those children will never get to be.

After what feels like an hour, she slinks back into the hospital room. Eudora and Dave are both undisturbed. She clambers into the chair beside the bed, grabs her daughter’s hand, and closes her eyes.

She doesn’t know what to do now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyoooo new chapter! it’s Very Long and Very Late. it was ap testing and finals are soon, so i tried! not my fav chapter because of the setup but it needed to happen.  
> i know i’ve strayed a lot from the hurt/comfort at the beginning of the fic! i want to go back to that. this is the more plot-driven fic than the spin-off will be, but still! i want these kids to be safe! if you have any suggestions, let me know. :)


	17. Game Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next steps for escaping Hargreeves are not always protected by legal law or, as it seems, maternal law.

“What’s that?” Dave cocks his head and peeks over towards Klaus, who had shown up that morning with his family at the break of dawn.

Overnight the boy had moved from his cot to join Patch on the bed. His eyes have the hallmark bruises of nightmares, but he seems chipper now with Patch letting him grab onto her arm like a lifeline. They had definitely grown closer during the day it took to interview the Hargreeves children.

Klaus makes a noncommittal noise and shoves the rectangle at Ben, moving to sit on his boyfriend’s legs instead. “A library card. Some kid at our apartment complex was all weepy at your room, tryin’ to look inside the crime scene because he had to go through the pure _trauma_ of a shooting next door.” He shrugs. “We traded the poor baby for it.”

“You’re broke.” Patch frowns and sits up, grimacing and clutching at her stomach. The others give her time and let her sort herself out, simply because they know helping a stubborn Patch does no good for anyone. “Whuh-what could you have possibly traded?”

Five grins. “The bullet.”

With a face, Patch makes a throaty sound. “Guhck. That was _in_ me, you guys. You just gave it to a random kid?”

“For a library card.” Ben gestures the thing in the air and then tucks it into his back pocket.

Ms. Patch shifts in her seat and rubs the sleep out of her eyes. “Jesus, you keep doing this—you kids are in _trouble_ for taking state evidence from the crime scene.” She winces as the kids shrink down and Luther steps ahead of them with his arms outstretched. “No, I didn’t mean… I just meant that I’m disappointed, I guess,” she pushes a knuckle into the space between her eyebrows, “because the state could have used that to investigate the shooting. You could face real trouble with the law, but nothing other than a frown from me, you guys, I promise.”

Allison makes an uncertain face anyways and takes a step back with Vanya’s hand in hers. Ms. Patch sighs. She really shouldn’t be trusted with seven abused children right when she wakes up. Five blinks to the corner of the room to escape the dour mood and puts his business persona back on, which they had all gotten rather accustomed to. His cheek is still deeply bruised and it creates a hollow in his face, which elevates the look.

“Well, you see, Ms. Patch,” Five hops up on top of a counter and steeples his fingers in front of his mouth. “We have a plan. We’ve talked it over and have since decided that it’s a _very_ good idea with, yes, a few probable setbacks, but what elaborate plan doesn’t these days, really?”

“Most plans are designed so that they _avoid_ setbacks.”

“He said ‘these days,’ Dave. You’re from the 50’s. You don’t count.” Ben raises his eyebrows. Dave purses his lips and plays with Klaus’s fingers instead.

Ms. Patch sits up further in her seat, ruffling the knots out of her short hair. “Five, as much I support you and your siblings, this a long and concerning amount of buildup for your ‘plan.’”

He huffs. “In short, I’m just asking if you know what’s most important to our dad.”

Oh, there are many inappropriate answers she could give. She won’t, because she’s both an adult and an officer of the law, but luckily she’s raised her daughter well. “It’s a tie between being a dick and hating children.” offers Patch, counting his offences on her fingers. “Oh, and stealing innocent people’s belongings. And drugging your kids into submission for years. And neglect. You know, since I’m thinking about it, Mr. Hargreeves has his fingers in a lot of pies right now.”

Allison snorts. “Those things _are_ important to him I guess, but we can’t really change any of that.” Her face sours. “Uh, I guess until now, hopefully. Really what we were discussing was his reputation. That whole shebang gets him his money and his power. Without it, we wouldn’t have a big house or immunity to the law or costumes or fans. I mean, he wouldn’t have been able to buy us either. If we take away his reputation, then we take away all of that.” She shifts uncomfortably. “So he can never do anything like what he did ever again.”

That catches Ms. Patch’s attention. “Is there any concern about that?”

“Five did end up looking through a few pages of Dad’s journal before he was found.” Luther crosses his arms. “He says Dad was writing about a big plan or something for a few years in the future after we move out. Something to do with powers and Mom and saving the world some more. There’s a good chance that he’s gearing up to find more supernatural children.”

At the stares, Five shrugs. “I have no clue if that’s really what’s going on, but that’s what we inferred. Either way, it’s something big and I don’t want Hargreeves to still have any possibility of enacting whatever it is.”

“Fair enough.” Patch reaches an arm out and gestures towards Ben, who eventually gets the picture and hands her the library card. She pokes her tongue out in thought when she reads it. “Oh, this place isn’t far from here. I do homework there sometimes after Scouts. What are we headed to the library for?” Ben takes the card back and brushes incorporeal dirt off of it. Patch takes offence.

“Libraries have computers, right?” Klaus asks.

Dave perks up, which jostles the other boy a bit. Patch makes room for him on the cot. “Oh! Oh! Those are the endless books that everyone can read at the same time, right? Or was that the GameBoy?”

“Nah, you got it in one, Prettyboy. GameBoys let you play games. It’s in the name.”

“Reading a book can be fun, I don’t know.”

“How did a mom as cool as yours raise someone like you?”

Dave gasps in faux annoyance. “And how did yours, heathen?”

“With a gentle hand to pull the trigger on the fire extinguisher, sweetheart.” Grace smiles from the doorway. “Now, I believe the Patches are still curious about the library? Would you prefer to carry on with it or that I provide the information myself?”

Vanya pouts. “You heard us planning?”

“I’m an automaton; I have microphones with high sensitivity in my ears. In the new apartment, I’m very close to all of you and most things you say are easily registered.”

“Crap. A lapse in our judgement for sure.” Five makes a face. “What is _not_ a lapse in judgement, however, is our trip to the library. As Klaus said, libraries have computers. On the computer is the Internet. The Internet, Mom says, has the mailing addresses for most news stations.”

“Plus, the luh-l-libra-rary has a phuh-fou-phone book fuh-for us to tuh-t-tuh-try and call them from the ruh-reception area.” Diego grins. He’d been sulking in the corner until now, and Patch had certainly missed his voice. “We wuh-w-want to get on the news, since thuh-this is a big thuh-thi-thing going uh-on. We’re on the news fuh-fairly often, but Dad ih-is always the one to call them, so long a-as we write the luh-leh-leh-lett-tters, we’re in puh-pr-pretty easily.”

There’s a soft silence. Ms. Patch breaks it with a tired sigh. “I know you all had a hard time answering my questions, and I didn’t even ask everything I should have. The news is going to push you to give gory details. They’ll want you to cry, so they’ll do whatever they can to make that happen. A major part of my job is protecting victims from the press. Are you _certain_ you’re ready to process your trauma on live television?”

Ben looks at the floor. “I don’t think so, really. But, but we have to. We don’t have money. We don’t have power. We’re _twelve._ I don’t want to go back to that house. I’d do anything, and so would my family.”

Ms. Patch considers this. “Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll make plans to be there with you so that you don’t get taken advantage of. I really want all of you to have say in how you escape your father, so if you want to go out guns blazing, I’ll let you.”

“Can my gun shoot Dad in the face?”

“I wanna shoot him in the dick.”

Patch snorts at Allison and Klaus. “I hope all of that happens.” She nudges Klaus and Dave slightly off of her and pushes a leg over the side of the bed. “So you said the library? Let’s get a move on before it closes.”

Grace tuts and gently tucks her leg back into bed. “First of all, it’s eight in the morning, so the library won’t have time to close. Second, you are severely injured and your doctors have prescribed you a week of bedrest at absolute minimum. I’m going to take the children and your mother can stay here with you.”

Diego frowns, expression dark. “We cuh-we can’t take Patch?”

“I’m afraid not, Diego.”

“We have to take Patch.” Allison scoffs. “She’s as much a part of this as we are. Plus, she knows what to do at a library. We’ve only been to one once and we were technically stopping a murder at the time.”

“If we want Patch to heal correctly, she unfortunately cannot come with us. I’m sorry it is this way, children.”

“Are you serious?” Klaus sits up in the cot.

“Guys, it’s fine. We can go without Patch.” Five quiets them down to everyone’s chagrin. “It’s more important that she heals. I guess we do need to talk about the plan more so we can maximize our time at the library. How about we do that today and hang out with Patch, then we can go to the library tomorrow?”

“I thuh-thought you under-ur-erstood how importuh-tan-tun-tant this is, Five.” spits Diego.  
            “I said we’ll go tomorrow.” Five rolls his eyes. “Speaking of which, there’s something I was thinking about when you were talking, Ms. Patch. So we have to say less about Hargreeves and the media can get what they want without obvious reporter pandering, I think we should release the audio files of our interviews to the public. It also saves us a lot of time, really. Is that legal?”

“I… I suppose that it is.” Ms. Patch’s expression screws up. “I was there for those, though. I know how distressing it all was and I’m not sure I would be comfortable handing all of that to the paparazzi.”

“But we are.”

“Luther’s right.” Five jumps off the counter. “Could you head back to the police station and make a few copies for us? Maybe, what, seven?”

The police officer frowns. “I could, but I’d need signed consent to do that. The signature of a minor isn’t legally binding and there’s no way I could get your dad to sign off on it.”

“Mom’s right here, if you only need a parent.”

“I guess that would work, Vanya. Grace, are you a legal citizen?”

“Oh, well yes, now I am! Allison saved me from having to apply for a visitor’s pass the first time we came in to the hospital because it requires photo identification, but Patch has told me on how you were working to reduce her reliance on her powers. I figured I would help, so I broke into the United States database last night and inserted my name so I could get proper documents.”

“Fuck yeah!” cheers Klaus.

“Why don’t we just use you to find the phone numbers, then?”

Grace frowns. “Sir revoked my Internet access after we left the house.”

“How’d you do all that database hacking, then?”

“I apologize, but I borrowed your library card.”

Vanya snorts and the lights flicker overhead. “Well then why don’t you go with Ms. Patch and get those audio files? I’m sure it won’t take very long.”

Grace seems uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t want to leave you dears alone. Bad things could happen! Last time I left you, young Patch here got shot.”

“We’re in a hospital.” Klaus rolls his eyes. “They have security up the wazoo in here. We’ll be fine. I still have a game of cards to beat Dave in, anyways.”

After a few moments’ deliberation, Grace reluctantly agrees and pulls the car keys out of her apron pocket. Ms. Patch gives them a final suspicious look before pulling her notebook out of her purse and stepping to her new friend’s side. “Alright, but you kids have to be good.” She blows a kiss at Patch before turning back around with a flourish.

As soon as the adults have left the room, Diego speaks up.

“Whuh-what the fuck was uh-uh-up with that ‘oh, huh-hurr-durr, we don’t nee-nee-we don’t need Patch to go’ shit? Five, we cuh-can’t—,”

“Yes, thank you, Diego; please shut up. Luther, could you open the window for us?” Five walks past the side of the bed and quickly turns Patch’s heart monitor off. He holds a hand out to take Patch’s arm and she curiously reaches towards him. There’s a sound of a bandage ripping off which causes Diego to go pale at the sight and turn away. Five carefully jostles the IV out of her arm and leaves it to drip into a cup Vanya had prepared for him. Patch flexes her wrist and stares at the bruising spot left behind.

With a breeze now coming through the open window, Diego blinks. “Whuh-what?”

“Obviously Patch is coming with us.” Five rolls his eyes. “I just had to get our moms out first so we could sneak to the library.” He goes up to the closet to grab Patch’s clothes. His nose scrunches at the sight of the bloodied outfit. “Allison, go find some new clothes if you can. What size are you, Patch?”

Her eyes go wide at the question in her confusion, but there’s a smile on her face. “Oh, um, just a medium.”

“Great. Ben, go downstairs to the cafeteria and get a few juice boxes and an energy bar.” He wiggles Patch’s medical bracelet off of her hand and gives it to the boy. “If you let them see this on you, you’ll get it all for free. Just say that you’re feeling a little nauseous and want something to aid your stomach.” Ben nods and whisks himself out the door.

Vanya frowns but begins to sit on the floor and start her meditation exercises which Patch had taught her to control her powers.

“Wait, we’re escaping? Like, again?” Allison laughs as she hands Patch’s shoes to her and heads for the door after Ben. “This might be our new schtick. Who really needs saving the world, anyway?”

Five shrugs, his usual cunning grin plastered wide across his face. “I suppose. Diego, could you go outside and play with that frisbee we saw in the grass in a way that it _just so happens_ to land on top of the security camera on this side of the building? We’ll meet you down there in ten minutes.”

“Huh-hey! Why did Vanya guh-get to know ab-abuh-ab-a-about the escape plan but we duh-don’t?”

“She figured it out on her own. You guys are just stupid.”

Vanya’s meditative pose shakes slightly from her sudden enthusiasm at the compliment.

Diego grumbles as he leaves, bunching up his jacket’s sleeves as best he can with the tough leather.

Dave cocks his head at Five, who’s now handing Patch a hair tie from his back pocket. Klaus gets to work on braiding her locks for her. “Why’s Vanya meditating? Is she gonna use her spooky brain magic?”

Ben and Allison pop back through the door in the middle of a chat while Klaus’s face begins to burn. “I _told_ you that you’re supposed to call it ‘telekinesis’ around them! ‘Spooky brain magic’ was purely a definition; in no way did I ever indicate it was a name.”

Five purses his lips and turns around with a sigh. “Vanya is going to use her ‘spooky brain magic’ to send Patch through the window. She can’t go through the door like the rest of us because the nurses know what she looks like. This hospital doesn’t get many child gunshot victims, I’m guessing. I would have her climb since there are also a lot of ledges, but her stomach has a gaping hole in it and I’m not a dick.” Allison helps Patch get up on shaking feet and walks her gently to the bathroom, the girl gasping the whole way. Ben hands the food and drinks to Vanya, who sets them beside her. “After that, we’ll give Vanya a moment to breathe it off since this is a _big_ ask of her, and then Luther will carry Patch with us to the library.” Luther nods and starts to head down the stairs.

Klaus pouts. “This is totally unfair; Dave and I don’t have any jobs to do. I’m used to it, but still. Boo.”

“Ah, but you do!” Five tuts. “If you’ll recall, Vanya needs noise to operate her powers, but we can’t be too loud, so we need real music for it to work. I know from experience that you play a mean mouth guitar, Klaus, and you also informed me last night that Dave has a singing voice like a ‘bird whose throat is made of juicy song pudding.’”

“Jesus Christ, that was an embarrassing compliment I shared with you in good standing, Five. Is it just Harp-on-Klaus Day? What have I done to you, dear brother, to deserve this?”

Dave giggles behind his hand. “I don’t mind singing if I get to hear your mouth guitar.”

Patch pipes up from inside the bathroom. “Just like to add my two cents and say that I would also like to hear the mouth guitar.”

“I don’t like any of you anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh gosh, hi! it's been awhile. unfortunately i had to graduate and then get through scheduling my college stuff. i've also been doing some work on the side to pay for all that! so i've been kind of busy and i miss you lot a bunch. plan on a chapter once a week At Minimum from now on!
> 
> that being said, i'm offering writing and drawing commissions if anyone is interested. you can contact me at papayaromantic on tumblr or hobgoblinimpersonator on instagram in order to talk it over! or just talk about the fic, really, i would love that so so much :)
> 
> it's good to see you all again!


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